Xerces Takes a Trip

To put all all of this in context, ya can but the book out later this year!  

-Paul 

Xerces left to take Tara (his small ship) to the surface. He powered up the fighter drifted into the airlock and when the outer door opened, shot out in a long curving downward arc. The moon appeared a red color up and off to his right shoulder. The ships of Cyan appeared far off as large shiny silver dots and the whole seen had a backdrop of countless stars, colorful gases and dark nebulae. Xerces thought seeing this alone made the trip worthwhile. In a few minutes he was hitting the top of the atmosphere and Tara became white hot as she slowed. The entry was smooth and soon huge billowing white cloud tops appeared. He looked upward to see a bluish green sky, all but one of the stars having disappeared. The ride became more bumpy as he descended through the clouds and rain drops hit the canopy and boiled away. It grew darker the further he down went. At last he came through the bottom of the clouds and a lush green forest covered mountains as far as he could see. Xerces switched off the autopilot and made long sweeping turns still descending on the way to the meeting point on the coast. He came out of the rain and saw where Yves and Uma were waiting.

_____________________________________________________________________

            

The stone tree nest looked like something from a long ago age. A massive column of stone rose up from an island just off shore. From the main column metallic and concrete branches supported windowed concrete orbs. As Xerces approached, a metal clamshell top opened on the highest orb revealing one large spaceship. There was room for two. Xerces slowed and eased Tara into the open spot. The doors closed over him.    

Xerces followed Uma outside into a fresh salty sea breeze and felt refreshed. Phoebe’s life support was a great system but there was nothing like a true living planetary scale biosphere. Uma lead him across a large wooden deck over to the railing. They looked out over the ocean and down to the crashing waves far below finishing their beers quickly. Xerces felt good but a little lightheaded and so did Uma. There was a large piece of red fabric stretched out far below.

            

“What is that?” he asked Uma.

            

“Think of it as an express elevator. This was an old fortress and sometime it can be helpful to get around quickly.”

     

 With that that, Uma sat down her empty glass and hurled herself over the rail screaming with delight all the way down. She landed on her feet and sprung back up almost all he way to an astonished Xerces. He sat down his glass next to hers and thought what the hell and followed her. His mind went into over drive watching the stonewall wiz by on the way down thinking he had made a fatal mistake. Fortunately, he landed true and shot straight strait back up and not outward. He realized the danger and watched his next few landings until he came to a stop. Uma waited just inside an open doorway. He stepped in after her.

 “I see your point. So where are we now?”

  “Not too far from the boat dock and our power station. Come there are a few things I want you to see.”

The stone hall was lit by the same kind of torches he had seen before. It lead to an iron staircase that lead down to a dock on the water. It was like being a large underwater cave. Over to their left, he could see a barred exit for the large boat at the end of the dock. Over to their right a short walk away stood what looked like a large metallic winged insect.

“That’s a flying machine that is almost as much fun as our express elevator. But that in not what I want to show you, Xerces. Don’t worry, it is not too far.”

She lead him to a metal door that opened into a small seemingly dark empty room. He wondered what she was really after. Uma flipped a switch and then Xerces saw a latter going down into the floor. She grabbed a flashlight and put on a headlamp like a minor would wear.

“Here take these.” She said handing Xerces the same equipment. ‘Don’t worry I will bring you back safely. No, I don’t plan to rape or kill you and am trusting you feel the same way about me.”

“It may have a bad impact on me wanting return home to Dzann and Phoebe so I’m just along for the tour.”

“Good.” She said getting on to the latter.                                     

He followed her down the latter in a small vertical shaft. After what seemed like an eternity, they came to a floor in another small room. He followed her over to a large metal hatch. She punched in a code on a near by keypad and started turning the wheel. Xerces, not even realizing what her was doing, took a few steps back. The door swung open. A small breeze smelling of damp earth and sea salt greeted them. Uma stepped in and motioned for Xerces to follow.

“From the now ancient times before the last round of wars.”

Xerces found himself in a huge tunnel extending off as far as his beam of light could see in either direction. It was like being inside a very large tube lined with what appeared to be woven chords of steel. A third of the way up on either side metal tracks ran in both directions. There was a third metal rail at the top of the tunnel as well. Uma walked slowly in the direction of the ocean and he followed.

"Maglev trains. This tunnel runs all the way under the ocean inside the bedrock. It is flexible which makes it earthquake resistant. The trains ran more than three times the speed of sound. There are service entries along the way even well out to sea. We’ve found several hundred such tunnels so far. You see, Xerces, the wars almost completely destroyed a far advanced civilization. We hope to rebuild but find ourselves facing an AI army and hoards of our own descendents… And later most likely the Fellix Federation.”

            

“I’d say the Federation is the least of your worries at the moment. I’m both deeply impressed and saddened. But I don’t see the situation as hopeless.”

           
“Do you know what a ghost is, Xerces?” She asked and stopped walking...

A Stay

Come in for a visit and stay awhile... Eternity.

James approached the building with a sense of disgust. How long could she stay here? The longer it is the better. The cold gray building stared back at him from the crisp autumn twilight. Dingy yellow light screamed out at him from the barred windows. He hated the visits with all of his heart. "... but we must keep up appearances." he though almost aloud.

The whole idea started when Clarissa started taking the pills for anxiety. She was sweet and beautiful. But he was tired of her. She just didn't get it. A family would get in the way of all he wanted to do. Life was all about getting to the top. That was the only thing that mattered to James. He had always been a success at what ever he did no matter what the cost. Now he had the right address and all the connections to get to the top. Clarissa was in the way. Every time he went to a business meeting, convention or the club she would nag him. "Why don't you stay home with me?", "What about us?" or his favorite "When can we have a family?" Jesus, it was always something to drive him crazy! He could not deal with it. There was too much at stake to risk a nasty divorce, after all he had not been an angel. There were the women at the Troy convention, Stacy at the club and the on going affair with Tom's wife. He had a feeling she knew something of all of this. A divorce was out of the question. James couldn't get rid of Clarissa by killing her. Her family had money and would find out some damn way. It all started with the pills. Soon she was drinking too much and keeping to herself. She babbled how she would win in the end. Win what? She had been a real loser all her life. Two bad marriages and nothing to show for but heart ache. Until James. He had looks, charm and money. He loved her at first, but soon she bored him. He had to be rid of her somehow. Of all the damn people who could help him, his stupid bitch mother in law was the last he expected. It was her idea. A little time at Placid Valley may do Clarissa a world of good. Get her off the booze and pills. Three days stretched into a few weeks and with a little help from the right connections it could be a whole lot longer. He still hated the visits.

James checked through security and begun the long walk down the long corridor to the elevators. The halls were lime green five feet up the wall and white up to the ceiling.  The floor was a shiny white marble. The place was clean but he still did not want to touch anything. Who knows what was splattered on those smooth walls. He got on the old elevator and rode up to the sixth floor. That cold dread feeling set in as it always did. He passed the nurses station. "An island fortress of sanity in the middle of it all, Jesus...."  he thought and laughed to himself. He passed into the day room. Was that what they called it? There she was sitting alone at a small table as always. The sunlight shinning through the long barred window caressed her dark brown hair and face. James was momentarily struck by her beauty. She still looked good. The others sat moaned and drooled and paid him no mind. They gave him the creeps. James sat down in front of his wife. Looking right through him she said with a slight smile.

"It is all over, I have won darling."

"What?"

"I have won, You'll see."

"Won what? What the hell are you talking about?" he said, irritated.

"There is nothing you can do to change it. You really took me for a fool. But I’ll have the last laugh."

"Clarissa! I hate it when you talk no sense. I just don’t understand. Do you want to stay here?" James was exasperated.

"No, I do not want to stay here. I want to go home."

"Well, we will see what we can do." It was all he could do to contain his laughter.  The silence that followed was awkward and long. Finally, he had done his time and got up to leave.

"Clarissa, I've got a lot of work to do this week. There is a lot going on. I don’t know when I can get back. But I'll see you soon. I love you."

"It has already been decided."

"Jesus..."

James began the walk to the outside and freedom. He really hated this place, but at least he would not have to return for a week or two. He looked back to his wife and she avoided his glance. The elevator was taking forever, he just wanted to be gone. He stepped in and pushed the button for the first floor and freedom. There was no one else. On the second floor it stopped. The door slid back without a sound and a huge black orderly stepped on and faced the door. He hit the red button below "one" and the trip resumed. They glided past the first floor on the way down.

"Hey!! We past my floor!" James protested to the back of the huge looming figure.

"Oh, no sir... We are on the way to your floor."

"Wait a minute, lets go back up so I can get off at the parking lot level. That is my floor!"

The man turned around. The black eyes cut into James and a chill shot through his whole body. The elevator stopped with a loud thud and the door fell outward without a sound. Screams suddenly filled his ears. The cold white flames were unbearable.

Terrorized, James yelled "Where did you take me!?"

The man laughed loud as thunder "To your floor, the Fourth Circle of Hell! Fool, unlike heaven there are many gates to this place! Some more unexpected than others. Clarissa was put here but she did not belong. She is free now. A good long life awaits her. She has already left Placid Valley forever.  Placid Valley, more like the valley of death! You, Fool, are not so fortunate!!"

The man howled with laughter.

Claws grew where the man's hands were and he grabbed James by the throat. He felt the very fabric of his mind being ripped apart as the demon cast him into the cold blue flames of the fourth circle....

"... In other news a man was killed after visiting his wife at Placid Valley when the elevator he was in plummeted six floors. Details after Bowling." Her voice was calm and pretty.

By Paul LaVack 05/10/98

For RFT

Who gets to decide who is normal and who is handicapped?

A picture of my label

Officially, those in the medical profession decide who is handicapped. A doctor slaps the handicapped label on us with a "diagnosis." In my case it is something called Arthrogryposis. Doctors, right or wrong, are one of the ultimate authorities in our culture. Many confuse medical practice with god-like powers. Dr. so and so is great and can fix it! When given the handicapped label, the first thing any parent wants to know is can it be mended? Can my child be made whole? This is normal, natural and acceptable. Often, there are things that can be done with the tremendous advances we are making in medicine. But that’s not always the case. The doctors diagnose the condition and treat it as best they can. Unfortunately, they sometimes forget an important need, the psychological impact on the parents and the child later in life. The parents may have feelings of guilt, inadequacy and stressfulness. It is likely that they have the same attitudes towards disability that society has. The disabled are to be felt sorry for, taken care of and have no chance for a so called "normal life." This is not because they are bad people, it is simply what they have learned. Parents may need to be re-educated  to think of what their child can accomplish despite physical ore even mental limitations.

I was lucky because my Mom would not accept a bleak future for me. She saw to it I had the best medical care possible taking me by car every month or so to Duke University Hospital. I had a great Doctor, Frank Clippinger who took my severely clubbed feet and remade them into the load bearing structures they are today. Without his efforts, all the good will and swimming pools in the world would have not got me walking. Mom and my Grandmother helped me exercise my working muscles everyday as an infant. They later told me I cried and cried and it must have been extremely difficult for them. They wanted me to be able to reach my full potential and not be put away in some room to be cared for the rest of my life. Born in the late 60's I may have miss being institutionalized just by a few years. Unfortunately, I’m the exception. There are plenty of others out there who do not have the means to get as good of care as I got and have a family support structure strong enough to let me live up to my potential. Overcoming the handicapped label can be daunting. 

Labels can be soul crushing. Consider this. Under our current system it is extremely difficult for someone living in public housing to work their way out on their own. The conventional wisdom says people in public housing are there because they lack initiative and are lazy. The same can be said for those on Food Stamps or similar assistance programs. Another way to look at it is they have been “labeled.” Again this starts with professionals. In this case, instead of doctors, the professionals are social and charity workers. They are trying to help because in our society, there are extremely few good options for the poor and less fortunate. Now let’s assume there is a new single mom living in public assistance housing on Food Stamps who loves her little one as much as any mother out there and her little one has special needs. She will not be able to get in her car (even if she has one) and drive several hours to the nearest high end University Medical Center. If she is working some long hour minimum wage job who will be there to help with the needs of her baby? It is possible she may succumb to "the everyone must feel sorry for my baby and me" narrative. This will do little for the child’s future. The questions are what can be done to correct such a power imbalance, what needs to change and how to change it?    

Call it what you want. Handicapped, disabled physically impaired, crippled and I may be missing a few others but they all have negative connotations in our culture. The underlying narrative these terms share is something is missing, we are some how not a “whole” person, and we cannot do for ourselves. We are often felt sorry for and for too many remain hidden away from mainstream life in institutions, substandard housing or with family. How many handicapped actors are there? How many books do we show up in? When given such a label, it becomes internalized. We take on the role of someone who wants sympathy, cannot participate in society or even take care of ourselves. It is self fulfilling prophecy at it’s finest. I don’t think such a person could be expected to break out of this situation on their own. How could they if this is all they have ever known? Becoming independent and a fully functioning member of society is dependant on learning. This starts at home. If the family follows the script that goes along with the disabled label assigned by the medical profession and reinforced by the rest of society, there is no reason the outcome will be good for the individual. I’ve not had that much experience with other so called "disabled" people. But I’ve noticed those who see themselves as being disabled are ultra self-centered only able to talk about their own problems seeming to forget that all people suffer in one way or another. The only way to break this cycle of learned dependence (can it also be read prisoner?) as I see it is education. We need to be educated on alternative possibilities. Instead of a focus on what we cannot do (I cannot ever be an NFL star, for example), we need to learn things we can do (I can write).  Dependence equals no or at least less freedom.

Powerlessness is learned. Along with having no power, less freedom is also learned. One cannot imagine venturing beyond the confines of an intuition or the home.  Where is the freedom in having all the big decisions made by caregivers for the individual? In the extreme even something as simple as when to go to the bathroom is decided by others for the disabled person.      

I had an interesting experience in high school. I was in a car accident with Todd and broke both my patellas (small bone in the knee joint) and was unable to walk for around two months. The funny thing was how some of the medical people helping me just assumed I was unable to walk before this happened. One lady in particular, a physical therapist, stereotyped me as the bitter handicapped teen. She would talk to me as if I was pissed off at the world and everyone else was to blame for my problems. One day she came in and asked me if I was excited about my new wheelchair. There were a few problems with this. It was not a new chair. It was only a rental and prior to this accident I had never used one. I politely as I could informed her of these facts but I don’t think it sunk in that I was not bitter about anything. I was not even mad at Todd who was driving when the accident happened. Shit happens! I think it is very hard for us to let go of our assumptions (me included). I don’t think the physical therapist is a bad person who should be working at a correctional facility instead of a hospital. She only knows what she has learned after all and it is entirely possible I simply took her the wrong way. I have been treated worse.

During the same time there were a few nurses who would talk to me as if I was a child. It was harder to be nice in this case but I did. Somehow they thought because I had additional physical limitations beyond my broken knees there was a problem with my brain as well.  They would talk to me about using the bathroom like a four year old. “Paul you must pee pee.” One said. I took my revenge. A friend smuggled in a 16oz Budweiser, I chugged it down and peed with a vengeance filling several containers in the process. Fortunately, she never caught on to the reason behind my sudden urges to go. It may not have ended well. Overall, I’ve had good relationships with doctors and other medical professionals.

I had another nurse who treated me like the king of the world checking on me often and despite my young age addressing me as sir. It felt funny and I asked her not too. I had another physical therapist, Beth, who saw me more as just another task in her day. She made me feel like a person, not a case. The docs who worked on me did the same as Beth. They often seemed to be in too big a hurry to move on but overall they also treated me like a human being. Being an asshole I learned a long long time ago would not get me anywhere. So I do my best to always be polite, epically to those whose job it is to care for me when I’m in the hospital. Almost without exception it worked. 

 

Readings February 10, 2013

Employment Disparities for Minority Women With Disabilities

Harsher Discipline Often Dispensed to Minority, Disabled Students

Disabled: The Invisible Minority

Disabled minority ethnic communities ‘face disaster’

Lesbians With Disability: A Minority Within a Minority

Walk Away III Final.

Everything changed for us after that terrible night, but even more so for Ben. Many of our values became a big pile of meaningless shit. What you have has little to do with who you really are. The parties, football games, and cars all lost their luster. Ben lost his job as our starting quarterback as well as Tiffany Norris. His other so called friends distanced themselves from him. Charlotte and I were his only friends by the end of the school year. Like everyone else, we didn't quite understand what had happened to Ben. We wouldn't leave him. The three of us still had a good time together. Looking back on it, we had even better times. Ben knew the value of life and friends as never before. For his former friends, he held no grudges. It was unhealthy to do so, he said. His grades went to hell and everyone said he had no “future”. Especially his parents. They were right, what they would call a future was not for Ben. Ben was always happy, the teachers, coaches and his family could not understand. (They chose not to understand.) Ben knew he had a new lease on life, like a convict released to freedom. I think he knew all along what he was going to do. Ben called me a few days before graduation.

"Hey, Jimmy they aren't gonna really let you into the world now are they?"

"Yep... And your dumb ass as well!"

“We’ll see ‘bout that one Jim. Hey, I got a favor I need to ask ya.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Can you give me a lift? Say around five?"

            "Think I can arrange that, sure. Where are you off to? Don't forget graduation practice at six."

“I won’t. See you at five?”

“Five.”

Whenever I went to Ben’s it was always the same old scene. Ben’s mom would plead with me. It was no different this time...

"Talk to him Jimmy, you’re the only one he’ll listen to. He’s throwing his whole life away!!" she sobbed.

”I’ll try m’am." I lied

            I knew there was nothing I could say. Was he really throwing his whole life away? All of these people with a so called future wound up so unhappy. They cared more for their things than others. Things don’t care back. Everybody said this same old crap about Ben. Ben and I left behind the heavy tense atmosphere of his house and headed for the freeway as he asked. He still hadn't told me where we were going and after about five miles I asked where in the hell were we going.

"Pull over here.” he said

“What?”

            "Pull over.”

I did.

“Jimmy, you’re the only one who will listen to me. Listen to what I tell you now. God knows no one else will. This life here... In our town... What we are supposed to believe, supposed to value, to want and do in life; I'm sorry it's not for me, just not for me. The football scholarship, college, then a career and the big house and all the rest; is that all there is to life man?”

I sat there gaping and dumbstruck. What the hell did he want? There was nothing wrong with those things. They are what most people want in life. It was my turn to misunderstand Ben. ­He went on.

“Maybe that is all there is to it. All the stuff... But I don’t want it anymore. It brings no happiness. Think about it Jimmy, most people spend their whole life worrying about their valuables and looking down on those who have no “valuables”. I tell ya man, they have something worth a lot more... freedom. They are free from all the worries that come with having all kinds of stuff. They can't judge others by what they have. I think that’s what I’m looking for. Was Mr. Shoe any less of a man because he had nothing?”

"Ben, I’m sorry bud, but you can’t just walk away from your life because of what happened. You have to live the life you have.”

“Walk away... That’s a good idea. Jimmy, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I’m not running from anything or anyone, just walking away. I have to do it this way, on my own terms. I’m not leaving my life behind, I’m going to find it. There is nothing back there for me.”

He got out of the car and picked up a small bag off the back seat. (Until then I hadn’t even noticed it.) He started to walk away down the little used freeway.

Suddenly I called after him. “Hey, what the hell am I supposed to tell everyone?”

He looked back at me and with a big grin. “Try the truth Jimmy. You’ve been a great friend and I’ll never forget you bro, goodbye. Tell them the truth!”

            With this, he turned away again and his pace quickened. Soon he disappeared over the hill and I never saw him again. Back in town, no one liked the truth. Ben’s mom will not speak to me to this day. A post card from Ben two years later confirmed the truth I tried to tell them. They missed the point again and only hurt more. They blamed themselves for his "failure"

Striking out from the herd and the familiar was not in me yet. I took the path everyone else said would lead to happiness and success. A college degree, good career, nice car and a big house in the right neighborhood were all mine in time. I married Charlotte and we had two beautiful little girls. For seven happy years we lived our fairy tale existence. Then, things started to change. I lost my job in a recession and Charlotte had to go to work, something she was not accustomed to. It was not enough. We lost the house. I did find another job, however the pay was nowhere near what it was before. There was no way I could afford all the valueables we had once enjoyed. Charlotte was in no way a shallow woman, she loved all the people we knew. It was difficult to go from our apartment to the mansions many of our friends had. Especially since we were on an even footing with many of them only six months ago. People say money does not matter? Things got worse between us. Eventually, she found some one to put her on an even footing with all our friends. I no longer really cared for them. She took our daughters, fearing what would happen to them if they stayed with me. The judge agreed.  My children still teach me much about what is important in life. I started to fully understand what Ben saw as plain as day more than a decade before.

Waking away was not easy. Life in the anonymous streets can be tough and they’re a long way from the “right" neighborhood. Always remember, you are only a paycheck or two away from sharing my old run down house. A worn out rug and old leftover furniture on the rough part of town are all I have now. I, like Ben many years before, chose this kind of existence. I work enough to pay my own way the same as Mr. Shoe had done in his time. To me, the rat race is just that. I decided to do what Christ and other great teachers told us all. Anybody can talk about doing it... but really giving up all of your worldly possessions for others is a different matter. Christ and the others are right; people in need have more use for “valuables” than any rich man. What is a few dollars compared to a home for someone? Besides less “valuables” equals more freedom.  No one can steal what is truly yours, your soul. Only you can give that away. Life is simpler now. Understanding why our insults bounced off Mr. Shoe was something I never understood until I spent a little time in his shoes. Most people will never understand. He was above such petty nonsense. Insults only work if allowed to. I turned away from poor folks earlier in life. Maybe out of disgust or perhaps I saw a shade from the future and was frightened. I figured to fully understand my little narrow world of money and so called success, I had to step out of it for a little while. Most people would not like what I would say about it. But for me, it’s the truth. I will never go back to the rat race! Before you walk away be warned... You may not like what you find out about yourself. It took me almost twenty years to match Ben.

Walk Away II

Neither of us was in a joking mood. I lived close to down town. On the way, we had to cross over Pegram’s Creek. Most of the time it was a little muddy ditch. But when it rained, it's dull personality changed for the worst. It was now a dark swirling boiling mass just below the height of the bridge. The storm, the radio and the car's engine were not enough to drowned out its furious roar. Way too loud for something you never thought about before! The storm still raged.

            "Ben, you better hurry your ass home after you drop me! We’ll drink the rest of the beer later!" I had to shout at him over the storm.

"Cool.”, he replied.­

            I knew he was nervous about the ride home alone. Anybody not scared in that situation is too dumb to breathe. I offered him the couch, but he said he would be fine. I guess he didn't want anyone to think he was a wimp. Hell, I’d done the same thing for the same reason. In an instant, the storm swallowed him up and he disappeared from my sight. I called Charlotte just before the phone died. There were no lights. I wanted to call Ben. I saw him the next day and he was not the same. The dark swirling water just below the bridge was the first thing I thought of when I woke the next morning. I wasn't worried about Ben. After all he always made it home. Until I got the call from his mom, I figured we would be drinking and having a blast, like every other Saturday night. She said Ben was okay now, but he almost lost his life on Pegram's Creek Bridge after he left my house. He wanted to see me. Right away, I left to go see him. The muddy water had receded below the bridge leaving behind branches and a lot of dried mud covering the road. The water was almost at its usual level. I knew I would never look at it the same again. Ben's house, a proud old southern mansion, looked as it always did. The difference was inside. Ben's mother, who thought of herself as a southern lady first, warned me Ben was not in his right mind. Her large brown eyes filled up with hope when I told her it was probably nothing a little time wouldn't take care of.  That was all I could think to say at the time. She hurried me up to his room, and I thought it was a little strange when I realized Ben was still in bed. No one had said a word about him being hurt. I knew something was wrong the moment I looked into his eyes. Were they full of pain? 

  

"Hey man, understand yer lucky to be alive after last night." I said.

"Yeah... Maybe not." He replied in a slow somber voice.

            "You dragged yourself out of the car before the water swept it away and pulled your self to safety and yeah maybe not is all you can say?"

            "No Jimmy... That's not what happened at all. The reason I wanted to see you... is... well you're the only one who will hear the truth about what happened. They hear... But they don't listen.”

“Listen to what, hear what?” I was confused.

"I... I didn't drag myself out of the car on my own, or make it to the water's edge on my own. No, no listen to me! Mom was not there! Mr. Shoe, he saved my life." his voice was cracking.

I listened dumbfounded. His mom had a different version. After a few minutes, he got his emotions under control and went on.

“I was too scared to move when the car stalled on the bridge. I froze, like a scared rabbit. How long I don't know. Couldn't have been too long. Then, from out of nowhere, I heard his voice, he said "Hang on boy, I'll get ya outta there!!”

"I don’t know how he even made it to the car through that rushing water and the driving rain. That old man was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. I was still too scared to move. Finally, he coaxed me into letting him help me get out of the car. There was no way to open the door in all of that water. When I felt how strong the pull of the current was, I was even more frightened. But... He wouldn't give up. He kept coaxing me along.

"Come on boy, we is gonna make it. C’mon, ain’t that far now!" After a long pause, he went on. “We almost did make it. When we left the car, the water was waist high. We got to where the water was down around our knees. I thought we had done it... Then, I slipped! I’d been carried away right then had Mr. Shoe not grabbed me. He fell to. He had to be real tired by that time. We held on to each other. The current dragged us slowly, edging us closer to going around the guardrail. Being swept away with everything else, we would be done for.”

"Boy,” he said. "I don’t think the both of us is gonna make it! You let go o’ me an make a jump for the high ground n may be one o’ us ‘will make it!"

            "NO, we both can make it!!” I answered in vain. The cold water was getting the best of us. Pulling Mr. Shoe any closer to the water's edge was out of the question. We were a few moments from being swept off the bridge. The current got the upper hand and I lost my grip on him. Instinctively, I lunged for the edge of the water. I knew I could make then. I looked back toward Mr. Shoe, just in time to see him disappear around the edge. I think he even smiled at me, but he was gone so fast, I'm not sure.”

Silence settled across Ben’s large room. Ben didn't have to explain what the problem was. I knew. People are not good or evil, they're both at the same time. Place and time have a lot to do with the mix. Ben's parents couldn’t accept the truth as it was. Their whole value system would collapse if they did. It was not possible for a poor old worthless black man like Mr. Shoe to ever do anyone any good, much less save their son! Really, the blacks looked out for blacks and whites looked out for whites. A poor old piece of human garbage save their son? Out of the question! To their way of thinking, that was not possible. If it was, all they have ever learned about people was wrong. This gets harder and harder to accept with age. Instead of accepting the truth about what happened, they invented a story in their minds about their brave son and it became fact for them. If Ben had been a few years older, he too would know how to lie to himself. Mr. Shoe saved more than Ben's life that night, he saved his soul. At my young age, I somehow knew all of this. Ben and I spoke little more that day, there was little else to be said.

Part II in a few days. 

Milestone!

Rough Draft of one book finished today! 

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Walk Away I

Looking out my frost covered window, I realized what I had to do. It has been years since I thought of the path that took me to this old run down house. I’ve had all most people ever want in life and made a choice to let it all go. Why? How did I find myself here? I think I know where, or rather who this story begins with. This is more than my own story, it is also Ben’s. (Wherever he is now.) Our paths were one many years ago at the beginning of our senior year in High School.  By the end of that year, Ben took another from mine path to who knows where. Later, I tried to follow his and found my own.

During those years, I thought I knew Ben, but that was the old Ben.  The Ben before he almost lost his life was like any other High School Senior. People would say he had it all; his own car, money to burn and of course, the prettiest girl in the whole damn school Tiffany Norris. I knew better, after all, I was his best friend. Something was missing in Ben’s life. I guess that can be said about almost any teenager, they don’t know what life is all about yet. Ben found out much earlier than most people. He faced death and discovered life as he never knew it before. His coaches, his parents and his teachers all‹ thought his new shitty attitude was a result of feeling sorry for himself after his brush with death. They were wrong. It took me over a decade to discover the reason he changed, but at least I did.

We all have a selective memory. Ask yourself to remember a typical fall‹[1]‹night of your senior year in high school. No, not a part or one particular thing,  but a whole night. Difficult? Now prom night or your first real date, those are easy to remember. I remember those things. They are sideshows for me now, not the highlights of my last year. The night Ben left my house in a driving thunderstorm was an entire night I can never forget. After that, all the other things are irrelevant That night started the same as many Fridays before. Ben and I as usual, conned my older brother into buying us a few cases of beer for the weekend. Nothing like a little hell raising to get the weekend off on the right foot. After successfully obtaining some beer it was time to get our girlfriends, Tiffany and Charlotte. Ben drove that night. We picked up Tiffany first and then went to get Charlotte, my girlfriend. On the way to her house, Ben was flying through down town and we were all laughing and drinking beer. He came screeching around a turn and almost killed Mr. Shoe. An old homeless white haired black man who did odd jobs for people, Mr. Shoe had been around as long as anyone could recollect. (Even the old people.

”Get out of the road, you stupid old fuck!”, roared Ben while Tiffany and I laughed like hell!

Startled, the old man looked at us as we zoomed out of sight and then returned to his business as nothing had happened. I guess it took more than a car full of young fools to get his attention.

“That old man is so gross, ya think he ever bathes?” Tiffany asked half serious and half joking. She caught a buzz real easy.

"Shit no!”, I said.

“Why the hell would he ever bathe?”          

“To impress all of those nasty ass hookers, Jimmy!”, Ben chipped in.

"Ya know, they oughtta do somethin ‘bout all of those smelly fuckin vagrants that hang out down town. It ruins it for everybody!”­, I mouthed off‹[1]‹in total disgust.

We picked up Charlotte, a tall attractive red head. One day she would be my wife... But that’s later. In our town, Friday night was predictable, dinner at “The Curb” followed by a movie at “Lucky’s” ­ drive-in. At “The Curb” they brought out the food and drinks and put it on a tray fastened to your car door. It was great! We had to hide the beer, there was no way to know when the police would roll through. In a town this small, rousing kids was a favorite past time of theirs. People would start to raise hell about the kids taking over everything and they would come looking for anybody under fifty to give a hard time. This was before they were afraid of “police brutality” accusations. We had to deal with them carefully. No back talk. Where the hell did they expect us to go? Some things never change. The drive-in was the main event. A great concept, the drive-in movie, a little entertainment and a little romance! Unfortunately, we never got much of the second. And on this night, the weather did not help our cause at all. The thunderheads started to roll in early.

“Well shit, this will be a real short evening.”, I thought to myself.

We got the top up just in time! The black sky opened up with a fury like I’ve never seen from that day to this. After the hail, the rain was fucking horizontal! Unlike most summer storms, this one did not roll through in ten minutes or so.  Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes; it kept on and on. We decided to call it an evening. When you are eighteen, it seems like life will go on forever. This night we all had second thoughts about that notion. We saw several bad looking wrecks, The cops had their hands full. Charlotte lived the closest to the drive-in, so we dropped her off first. Like most girls, she pleaded with us to be careful, and made me promise to call her when I got home. I kissed her good night and told her I would. Ben went through a similar scene with Tiffany when we dropped her off.

“I sure hope I get a kiss good night!” I had to give Ben a little shit just to lighten up the mood. The storm hadn't lightened up at all.

“This is crazy man! You ever seen rain like this before?”, asked Ben trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Hell no... Lets get our asses home!" 

Part II Soon.