Friendship
28 July, 1917
How does on describe the scene and capture the emotions that envelope it? Charles stood there in awe. What started as one hundred black women, children and men, has now grown to a thousand. With notepad in hand he scribed quick visual descriptions of the solemn stone-faced marchers. Children and women led the march. In the distance muffled drums were heard. However, no one could see who was beating them. Not a soul spoke a word as the group past. Perhaps the signs said enough; Thou shall not kill, Make America safe for Democracy, 200,000 Black men fought for your liberty in the Civil War.
The patrons marching multiplied. This was apparently well organized. A sense of fear fell over Charles as he stood watching the children and women silently passed. Are they just going to march or break off into a riot? Who could blame them for being angry? Lynching and murders were out of control. Charles was a reporter for the Times newspaper. Guilt gripped him as he reflected on how nonchalant he composed his reports. Death after death, lynching after lynching, he grew numb to the lack of humanity New York had shown these people. It wasn’t just a southern attitude. It was everywhere in America. And now, he stood looking at the faces of the families that were affected by the tragedies he reported. A single tear rolled down his cheek. The white dressed patrons turned into men dressed in dark suits beating muffled drums. These were the laborers, the men who went out and worked all day to provide a living for their families. They marched behind their children and women echoing their silence. He too knew the struggles of the times. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and if one was to survive they had to fight. But how do you fight for your family in a country that shows nothing but hatred. At some point the silence speaks louder than anything. And today, Charles witnessed the silent scream of a human race begging to be loved, begging for life.
Never in one hundred years will we forget this silent protest. The day the Black man said everything without saying anything.
Genre Labeling
“It’s OK. I understand.” Will’s voice sounded well rehearsed. As a counselor, she dealt with a lot of young adults striking it out in the “real world” for the first time.
“Let’s start from the beginning. Why were you asked to leave your biology class?” she asked.
Susan chose her words carefully. “I called Professor Lens an idiot, and that sparked a debate that landed me here talking to you.”
“Why did you call him an idiot?” Will asked.
“He labeled me as a transgender. Therefore, I labeled him as an idiot.” A smile caressed her lips, signaling satisfaction in her action.
“Why do you suppose he labeled you as such?” She paused. “Or better asked, what was the foundation of his accusation?”
“His deduction came from a questionnaire we had to fill out. We had to list our likes and dislikes. It was from this list that he concluded I was transgender.” Susan’s face blushed with aggravation.
“I see. If you don’t mind me asking, what did you list on the questionnaire.” Will placed her pen down, giving Susan full attention.
“My likes were sports, hunting, and fishing. My dislikes were formal events, reading romance novels, and the Cowboys.”
“Given the short list, I can see how he came to his conclusion.” Will paused. “However, it doesn’t justify his accusation. I can see that he embarrassed you in front of your peers. I will have a talk with him on that matter.”
Susan’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “Thank you.” Feeling regretful for making a scene she continued. “I just get tired of being labeled as a lesbian, transgender, or a tomboy.” Looking at her sneakers. “I was raise by my father, had three older brothers, and we lived near Smithville, in the country. At any rate, I’m me. I have my likes and dislikes. It doesn’t give anyone the right to label me. I am not one genre.” Looking up at her counselor, “Is it so hard to comprehend that labeling is wrong?
Will smiled softly. “I understand exactly what you are saying. Maybe someday, we’ll understand that error; just not today.”
Brotherly Faith
Disbelief fell over Nigel Carter as he read the notice from his mechanic. Due to the negligence of a former employee the company was forced to inform all customers that incomplete maintenance may have been performed on their vehicle. A recent oil change threw Nigel into this category. Thoughts of breaking down along side the road raced through his mind as he continued to read. The company would be happy to provide free service if the customer can show that the maintenance was not performed. That’s how they get you. They paint an image of wanting to help then insert a small clause that frees them from any responsibility. I just bought that car from Stuart, and didn’t know when the last oil change occurred.
Nigel’s older brother, Stuart, had the most peculiar habit of putting his initials on everything. As a child, he scurried around with a black felt marker ensuring everything was labeled. In later years, this transgressed to monograms on every clothing item, including his plaid boxer briefs.
Nigel drove to his mechanic. Upon giving it an inspection the serviceman could not find any proof that incomplete maintenance was performed. The mechanic backed his guy as Nigel rebutted.
“Did you check the oil filter for initials?” he asked..
“Sir, we have checked everything. It all appears good.”
“Did you check inside the oil filter?”
Both the mechanic and service man gave Nigel a crossed and confused look. “Sir, that would require dumping out the oil. We are not giving you a free oil change.”
Knowing his brother, Nigel stood his ground. “If his initial aren’t in that oil filter then I’ll pay for the oil change and buy you both lunch.”
Up for a free meal both men were in agreement. “Not so fast. If those letters are in the filter, then you owe me three free oil changes. And, I’m coming back there. I would hate to have any filters swapped.”
Aggravated at the accusation, the two conceded. With Nigel’s car in the air, the oil poured. The anticipation started to build as Nigel began to second guess his brotherly faith. Each twist of the oil filter brought him closer to proving his point. Finally the serviceman pulled the filter off and wiped out the inside. Stamped neatly inside were the letters SJC.
“Stuart Josephine Carter.” Nigel read with pride.
Never had he been more proud to see his brother’s initials than that very moment.
The Right Words
One could eloquently state that Charles was no romantic. The well established 45-year-old district sales manager shined in the aspect of providing for his beloved family. With a concrete dedication, he held fast to a work-eat-sleep routine. Amidst his well-balanced life a problem stewed.
He and Dianne married in their mid-twenties and, like all well planned out families, they had two girls four years apart; making college preparations easier. Truth be known, both were accidents, but that another quaint story for another rainy day. Having the gift for gab, Charles excelled as a sales representative and with time he progressively gained his current position, stepping on the shoulders of his coworkers.
A clear view of his misguided perspective laid the foundation of his skewed reality. For you see, although he wasn’t the most honest, nor virtuous man, he did have righteous intentions. This is what’s brings us to our ambiguous hero’s current situation; standing perplexed as he desperately searched for the right anniversary card.
Seeing that Charles was not having the best of times, a sales representative inquired “May I help you?”
Looking over his reading glasses, he politely smiled. “Perhaps.” A quick glimpse at the card in hand allowed him finish his read. “I’m looking for the perfect 20th anniversary card.”
“Oh how sweet!” she exclaimed. “We do carry a wide variety of cards that suits that very occasion.”
Placing the card back on the shelf, his chin pointed towards more cards as he peered for more prospects. “Do you have one that says ‘Thanks for understanding’?”
Not clear on his statement she point towards a set of cards. “These are our ‘Thanks for being so caring’ cards.”
His lip pouted in discontent. “No. It needs to say ‘Thanks for understanding’. I’m a little off schedule, as one may put it.”
“Oh I see. Are we talking a day or two late?” she asked.
Turning his attention to the sales rep he quickly muttered. “Nope. It was last year.”
Stunned and speechless the lady pick up a card and handed it to him.
Opening it, he found it to be blank inside.
“Wait, there aren’t any words in this one. I need a card, with words, right now.” Charles demanded
With raised eye brows and an honest look, the rep replied, “Sir, there are no words.”
Closet Creature
Lightening illuminated the room as Kevin began to count,
“One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand…”
A roll of thunder signaled the approaching storm. The ten-year old boy wasn’t as afraid of storms as he use to be. However, lightning always brought an eery view to his room. Perhaps it was the split second revelation followed by the sudden darkness that led to his overactive imagination. Was that shadow my coat or a dark creature? He was certain that it was his jacket hanging in the closet. He clearly remembered hanging it there.
Another flash of lightning revealed his jacket was indeed hanging there next to an unknown shadow that seemed to be staring at him. All features were hidden, but he was certain something was standing in his closet. The thunder crackled as the creature moved, ever so slightly. It moved! I saw it move. There is something in my closet and it just moved. Focusing his attention to the closet he could hear the creature breathing. But, what is it? Kevin slowly slid out of his bed and slipped across the carpet; taking care not to make a sound.
The creature appeared to be short like a goblin. No identifying features were revealed as Kevin got close. Holding his breath he got within inches of it. He could still hear it’s rapid shallow breathing. There’s no such thing as monsters. If there are, I’m about to catch my first one. Raising his hand towards its head he slowly began to exhale.
“Kevin.” a small voice called out.
A fear struck him as the creature seized his hand with its cold pale fingers. Lightening struck illuminating its screaming face. Kevin’s scream was eclipsed by the explosion of thunder. His backwards leap pulled the creature from the closet. The two fell to the floor as fear gripped them both. Before Kevin could move his unknown fiend wrapped it thin arms around him.
“I’m scared.” his sister whispered.
A flood of revelation brought an onslaught of relief to Kevin. Realizing it was his little sister the whole time, he hugged her back.
“It’s OK. That lightening was scary.”
Reaching up, he pulled his pillow from his bed for them to share and covered up with the blanket she brought from her room. The two slept on the floor as the storm passed over. Every now and then his sister would jerk from the thunder, and he would comfort her. He knew this was all part of being a big brother, even if she did scare the living daylight out of him.
Five A.M.
Five a.m. came quick for Chris. It wasn’t a late night with the boys, or an argument with his wife that brought the morning on so quick. No, he was just worn out from his new carpentry job. Setting in his favorite chair, he realized he had fallen asleep with his work boots on. A small quilt covered him; a sure sign his wife took care of him.
Slowly making his way to the kitchen his body ached. Every joint popped like a bowl of milk and rice-crispies. Setting at the kitchen table, he untied his boots and kicked them off. Pulling his socks off too, he placed his feet on the cold hardwood floor. The cool flat surface brought relief as he made his way to the coffeepot. First the a precise measurement of grounds, then a pot full of water was added. As the first drip of coffee fell, Chris began to stretch. How could he be this young and feel this old? His hands still felt tight from gripping a hammer all day. Hand cramps were a sign of learning. Gotta let the hammer do the work. He told himself as he stretched his fingers out. The morning fog cleared from his thoughts as he stood there watching the pot fill. I could be getting ready for the day.
A quick shower and fresh clothes helped him face the morning. Moving with more ease, he poured his first cup. Not sure if it was his youth, inexperience or the excitement of learning a new trade, but he was actually excited to go to work. His career choice was the foundation he was building his life on.
Life didn’t come with instructions. It came with those before us showing what works and what doesn’t. Like Chris, we have all stepped out with uncertainty. But our youthful vigor perpetuated us all to achieve our greatness. As our work kicks back with pain, we are reminded five a.m. comes quick for us all.
Levi’s Hairpin Passion
The engine raced as adrenaline rushed through Levi’s veins. Tires screamed in horror, fighting to hang onto the morning asphalt of each corner. Machine and man danced around each chicane resembling two familiar lovers, knowing each other’s moves. This was not loved; this was passion. Cresting at the last hill, three miles of straight road filled his eyes. With ears tuned to each signature shift point, Levi was pulled deeper into his seat. The speedometer’s needle slowly made it’s way past 150mph. At the end of the straightaway, a hairpin corner waited patiently. Nerves tingles as a 20mph sign flew by in a blur beckoning him to slow down. Was this stupidity or just craziness? Whichever, he knew he was coming in too hot. This is where experience and reflexes demanded perfection. One hesitation, or one miscalculation could send car and driver to an early grave. Like four permanent markers, the wide tires marked the pavement in a howling pain. Levi’s body was pushed to the side making it difficult to move. Knuckles turned white, fighting to stay in control. The car careened sideways around the corner. A downward shift and the sound of an accelerating engine shot Levi out of the hairpin. A quick glimpse at the side mirror revealed no space between the tire marks and the unforgiving grass-line. Once again he escaped death’s clutches. However, an old oak stood six feet from the line, baring scars from the many drivers it had caught; a sacred reminder of past mistakes made with confidence. Such is life through the eyes of Levi and why he loved to dance around the corners.
Stormdrop
When the consolidating cool air is upon me. I will ban with others, and bring the storm. Winds, thunder, and lightening will join in our crusade. Within this war we wage, I will fall. Plummeting at a chaotic rate, the winds of change will rip at the fabric of my soul. Though I’ll fight to stay together, fragments will be lost. Others around me will fall with me with no Calvary in sight. We are all fighting the same fight, but we are so individual.
A catastrophic amount of myself will be lost within the realm of my descending impact. I will only be a fraction of what I was. Yet, my days of demise are not upon me. For as the sun rises and brings the heat of the day, I too shall rise far above this earth, only to wage another storm.
A Cooling Walk
Brandon’s neck feverishly burnt from the constant rebutting from his wife. He remained collected as she explained why they “needed” a seventy pound yearling pup. Her adamant argument hinged around them rescuing this dog. The words “Yes, but…” met every point he was trying to make.
“We can afford to feed a dog of this size. We are literally one medical accident away from bankruptcy.” He stated. The truth of his statement hit him hard. He was working overtime just to make ends meet. If he got injured and couldn’t go to work, they would loose everything. Why can’t she get that through her thick skull/ Why must she always want to complicate things
“Yes, but we need to rescue him. The lady at the pet store said that they had too many dogs and without people willing to rescue them they be terminated at a young age.” Brittany volleyed back.
Asking to ensure he heard her correctly, “So this lady stated that the pet store couldn’t afford to take care of him?” He wanted to wait for a reply but the next question jumped out of his mouth. “If they can’t afford it, what makes you think we can, Brittany?”
“Yes, but they were going to kill him. I couldn’t just walk away.”
“Yes! Yes you could, but you let someone tug on your heart and now we have another bill. Thank you! Thank you for adding to our debt.” The screen door slammed as he finished his sentence.
“At least I have a heart!” was heard as he walked towards to woods. He needed to get out of there fast. He wanted to walk, move, or think. Arguing only made things worse. A walk in the forest would calm him down.
A cool autumn breeze blew as leaves crunched under his feet. All he could think about it that dog. He and Brittany were young and freshly married. They had a one year old daughter and planned on having one more child. He was a carpenter. The work was hard and the pay tight, but he was good at his job. Within another three years he would have enough time in to start bidding on foreman jobs. He kicked around that idea as he reached his small pond, but his attention turned towards their finance.
Walking around it’s edge he began to think about their expenses. There was room for improvement. For starters, he could take lunch in. He was spending $10-$15 per day. That could save them two hundred dollars a month just by doing that. A few more cut backs on his part and he was saving $500 per month. That’s two car payments. He thought to himself.
After taking a slow walk around the pond he began to head back to the trailer house. Perhaps they could “rescue” that pup. He knew how much it would mean to Brittany. He wished she had talked to him about it. Not for permission, but to let him front load him on her intension. Walking in and seeing this oversized horse of a dog leaping around the living room was a sensory overload that he was not prepared for. All he could see was another group of bills to pay. His emotions got the best of him.
As he left the forest and entered the field he began to think of Mr. Williams who kept inquiring about renting his field to grow his crop. Brandon smiled. I’ll just have Mr. Williams pay for that dog.
“Have a nice walk.” Brittany asked.
“Yeah.” his voice was low and hesitant. He knew the was in the wrong and she was about to let him know.
“Good. We’re still keeping the dog.” She informed him.
“Yeah, I know.” he conceded. “Look, I’m sorry for flying off and losing my temper. It’s just that after working all day and coming home to that horse bouncing around… well… It hit me wrong. I wasn’t prepared for that.” after voicing his point he watch her stern expression.
“I can see that.” and she began to walk towards the back door. Brandon took a step only to have a finger pointing in his face. “The next time you want to question my heart you should ask yourself why I have it to you. It’s my heart and I’ll do with it as I please.” seeing the seriousness in Brandon’s face she knew her point was made.
“Yes, ma’am.” Brandon smiled.
The two embraced each other. Neither new what storms were ahead, but they had each other, and that was enough. Moments like this afforded them the opportunity to grow together and live in unity. Two young lovers were bent to make it through this carousel of life as they held onto each other, vowing to never let go.
Life Was Like A Box of Chocolate.
Digging deeper into social phenomenons, I found that we often remember things differently than they are. Take Forrest Gump for example. We all know that he said “Life is like a box of chocolate.” However, that is not what he said. He clearly says “was like…”. You can click here to see what you think. It intrigues me to think that everyone can be wrong. The Venn Diagram effect appears to a real phenomenon. I covered this in a previous blog.
We all carry a different perspective of this world. My reality may differ from yours. There is nothing wrong with that as long as we don’t confront each other with our differences. Our differences bring flavor to life. Another movie that I find often miss quoted is Field of Dreams. “If you build it they will come.” I’m not sure where this started. I hear “If you build it he will come.” I could be wrong. 🙂 Click here to see what you hear.
Thanks for taking time out if your day to read this. And as always, thanks for sharing and following.
stevenjcurtis 