A vignette – Young boy from a small Southern town. Raised in a culture which hovers just around poverty, whatever that is. Necessity can breed genius and skills passed on from earlier generations still link him to the land. Making do with what is available is the “redneck” way. While he may never know the “sophistication” programmed into the larger culture, he carries in his blood a wisdom and frank view of the world that many will never fathom. He laughs at “City” folks who would starve to death if they closed the grocery stores and cut off the water. He wonders at their ignorance. What follows is told in the language, inflection, and accent of that world. A word of advice, if the world falls apart you better know some rednecks. 🙂
Yeah, I seen them pull up and stop outside her house. They seemed important, or like they wanted to be anyway, walking like they do, like they own the damn place. It was the cops and a guy in a dark suit, the man from the bank. I seen them knock on her door and wait. They talked to each other like they were making a plan or something. One of them had some papers and started shaking them at her when she finally did open the door. She just stood there, still like that big rock we played on in her backyard. They were talking to her, but she wasn’t listening. She looked right past them, through them. And I watched her. She looked up and down the block then she seen me. She smiled at me and nodded as if she knew, like she was telling me goodbye or something. Then I seen her look up, past everybody to something in the sky. And I looked up too, to see what she was looking at, but all I seen was clouds. Then this dove landed on the telephone wire in front of her house. She grinned. Her eyes lit up and her mouth moved like she was talking to somebody. She raised her arms and took a step out the door on to the porch and then she fell down dead. A couple of the cops got all excited and started talking on their radios and shit, and another started doing that CPR stuff on her. The banker man, he just watched like he was bored, like it was all just getting on his nerves. I saw him look at the cops then he looked at her. Then that bastard stepped over her like she was a mat at the door. Guess he got what he wanted, but so did she. She’s finally home.
Beautifully read, it is so much more with that voice saying the words.
Thank you for stopping by
Hey good to see you still doing your thing. A great story, interesting ending. None the less I was amazed how I felt a beauty about it all in the end
Hey brother! I liked that the world system could not ultimately defeat her. She won. Blessings
Every bit as evocative as it was when I read it months ago. Your reading brings it to such a deeper level… Never fails to amaze me how that works. You really ARE a story teller. A Bard. 🙂
That culture is a large part of me and my roots.
I’ve seen the bad ways to go . . . this is an example of the best way
Oh, I forgot to say how I really liked the pic at the beginning. I thought about that, but never got to do it.
That was quite a twist at there end there… Really excellent story. Now I going to go listen. I like to read first, these days, then listen to you. I like to hear how far away I am from your intent. 🙂
Amazing story. Short and very on point. Btw did I mention how charismatic your voice is.:)
Thank you so. I am so glad you were here.
This is a story that’s hard to read because of how you feel when you think of the woman and what she’s going through; that’s how you know it’s good story-telling. It makes us feel her pain. I was reading a post by another great blogger, and though hers was a real-life experience, I felt something similar. Like I didn’t want to feel this way anymore but couldn’t stop reading the post:
http://astorybyme.com/2015/04/28/a-picture-forever-etched-in-my-mind/
Nicely done!
I spent a year in Zimbabwe. It was right after the civil war there and during the drought in the early eighties. Seeing that kind of thing and coming to love those folks changed a nineteen year old boy forever. Thank you so much for coming by here. I really do enjoy your visits.
It is the sound of home. Thank you for coming by my friend.
What a great piece! The spoken voice was perfect too.
That was just fascinating. It never ceases to amaze me how many different takes there can be on one prompt. I wondered when I wrote mine if I got the voice too young. I think yours sounds more like a 12-year-old boy would. I gotta say I LOVED the ending. Wanted to yell, “Take that, you butt heads!” 😀 Loved it!
🙂 I was in a mood. I know that boy, lots of them, raised rough, no nonsense, tough as a pine-knot. I work with some of them. Some are my kin, and some of him is in me.
Hmmmmmm-hmmmm-hmmmmm-hmmmmm. Do you hum when you’ve read something you like? I do sometimes. Another good one. “She smiled at me and nodded as if she knew…”
Hey lady! How is you?
I’m up! More up than before anyway! I’ve got one more post to put up, that got interrupted by a surly boy phone call. Fitting. How are you?
Putting off going to work. Trying to catch up on this blog thing for a minute.
Looks Good!
Will my lollygagging delay you too much longer? I can write an excuse. “Dear Plato’s Boss,
Plato was doing needed in depth psychotherapy on a long distance patient. Please excuse his tardiness. If there are any questions please contact me at metalflowermaker@gmail.com.”
The scary thing is that I’m the boss. 🙂 I learned a long time ago what a horrible employee I am.
And that is why you are the boss!:) You may now call me a smart ass:)
Is that your indian name 🙂
No, my Indian name is closer to, “she who does not keep her moth shut.” Or, barefoot in spring walker.” Or, “Mother of many.” Or, “Plethera.” Or, “Not as simple as we thought.”
🙂 you make me smile. Happy day to you. The boss said I have to go to work
Hop to it, boss man! Shoo-shoo!
You’re fun. Making me feel human again.
Make something beautiful today!
I will make beautiful piles of clay for my art residency next week, then I will continue to un-garden and landscape the yard. You try to do the same. Well, if you wrote your piece this morning, you already did! 🙂
I rewrote it. When I started recording it I needed it to sound like home.
I remember now, what a nightmare, Wednesday was. Your read like it was from home.
Wish I could say I made something two days ago. I can barely remember it, ugh. Life.
I bet you made beautiful poetry every morning with that sweet little girl
Thank you for that. I forget when she’s sleeping that she is my gift. Good morning how are you?
Good enough. About to hit the road and see what the day will bring
May today bring you joy! Today is going to bring me the status on a vehicle, a long walk home and gardening/cleaning/packing. All good things. Have a great day!
Excellent story on one person’s escape from the manmade cares of this world. If there is anything after this life, I hope she finds peace…
She won brother!