Archives for April 2010

(The story continues) 

In a past life Buck had been someone, but it was a little unclear who.

He was not dumb or slow although some took his reticence to speak as an indicator of such. In a different time and place Buck had been a son, he had been a husband and most importantly a father.

Buck reminded Tom of granite, imposing and forbidding he gave the impression that had he wanted to remain in the bar nothing could have made him move. Tom wasn’t real sure how they became friends or even if they were, but he couldn’t let him stay or maybe he wouldn’t have stayed.

Who really knew what or why Buck did what he did. The reality was that Tom had invited him out, had asked him to join him for a beer and so he felt responsible for the incident.
Their friendship had been a gradual process, not much different than watching a glacier move. Slowly it had evolved from grunts and nods to the odd word here and there. The bar they were currently walking away from had helped to push things along.

One day Tom had decided to stop and get a beer before heading home. Buck was sitting on a stool, alone as usual. It hadn’t been easy to approach him, but he had been afraid not to. So he had walked over and asked Buck if he could join him. An almost imperceptible nod yes demonstrated his approval and so he pulled up a stool and sat down.

For the first ten minutes he hadn’t even tried to speak to him, just sat there trying to figure out what to say. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but the silence didn’t faze Buck. And in truth it was Tom’s decision not to try and force conversation that caused Buck to speak first.

He didn’t say much, but for someone who tended not to say more than three words at a time this was a veritable Shakespearean soliloquy. “You could do better work if you slowed down.” It wasn’t said critically, there was no accusation, it was surprisingly friendly in tone and nature. “If you let the machine do its job you’ll do better.”

Tom suddenly realized that he had been holding his breath and exhaled deeply. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

And from then on they had an unspoken appointment to share a pitcher of beer each week. Over time bits and pieces came out about Buck. He shared little things about his life, but the pieces of the puzzle were still hard to place. It became more than apparent that there was much more to Buck than it appeared, but still he was a man who did not offer much in the way of answers.

“I never will forget those nights
I wonder if it was a dream
Remember how you made me crazy?
Remember how I made you scream
Now I don’t understand what happened to our love
But babe, I’m gonna get you back
I’m gonna show you what I’m made of

I can see you-
Your brown skin shinin’ in the sun
I see you walkin’ real slow and you’re smilin’ at everyone
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone ”

“Boys of Summer”- Don Henley

“Don’t tell me when
Something is beautiful
And don’t tell me how to
Talk to my friends
Just tell me the names of
The stars in the sky
What’s your favourite song
Tell me the names of the
Lovers you had
Before I came along

Don’t put your arms around me
And don’t hold me tight
‘Cause I could get used to
Your vision of paradise

And don’t ask me where
All of the pain goes
‘Cause you make me feel
That I don’t know myself
You say that you want me forever
And I say that love is no crime
So tell me the names of the children
We’ll have at the end of the line”

“Visions Of Paradise“- Mick Jagger

Sometimes the frustration turns into anger and I think about letting go. I think about how good it would feel to just give in and take that last step over the edge and into the abyss. One little step and we’ll find out if I can fly.

I am not crazy. I don’t mean it in a literal sense. I am not suicidal not even close. It is more of a symbolic or metaphoric reference to just letting emotion drive the bus. Does that make sense to anyone? Not sure that it matters or that I care, it is sort of a reference point to me.

But I don’t just let go, it is not my style and it is not who I am. A thousand years ago I made a promise to you that when it got hard I would be the rock. I made a promise that when you pushed me away I wouldn’t go far. You said to ignore your outbursts. I told you not to say it unless you meant it because I am not capable of making that sort of promise in jest.

In short we made the sort of vows to each other that don’t just go away. We held hands, fingers intertwined, eyes locked upon each other and stepped over the cliff and promised to save each other. We knew that we had something more, something special and unexpected. And we knew that there was a price to be paid for such love.

Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must first be overcome.” Samuel Johnson

We both have had our moments of doubt and fear.You figured it out long before I did. You did a better job of listening to your heart than I did. I was so very scared. Terrified to let you know me, to show you who I was. For so long I had been so good at wearing my mask. So adept at keeping my heart secured and my soul protected from that which could hurt them.

And then you just walked in and took over. Left me dumbfounded and confused at how easily you did it. Breathless and energized with possibilities. So it took me a while to get to where you were. To me it felt a bit like I had to scale the side of a giant mountain. And there were times when I fell, when I slid down through patches of brush and briar. There are scars that bear witness to my struggle.

But I got there. I got there and watched as you left. Saw you just ahead of me climbing down the side. I called out to you and asked that you wait. Tried to race to your side to assure you that it was more than a dream. Cried out your name and listened to the echoes. And when I realized that you were indeed leaving the mountaintop I set off at a run.

The uneven terrain made it difficult to move as quickly as I wished and so I found myself standing alone in the dark. I knew that you were somewhere off in the distance, that somewhere on the trail below I would find you moving forward.

So I took a deep breath and howled in frustration, screamed in pain at thrust my fist at the moon that looked down upon me. And with that I lay down upon my back and stared up at the sky and considered my options.

The boy who had been so scared to let you in wanted to run headlong after you. It seemed like the height of foolishness to let you go. But to run like that recklessly through the dark was fraught with more than a few challenges that made it seem more prudent to come up with a plan.

It wasn’t easy to sit down and let you keep walking. It was a tremendous challenge that took immense self control and faith. Oh yes, faith played a big role. Faith that the things we had said were not just words. Faith that we really shared a heart and that with some work and time it would happen.

Some pieces of our life are not built upon logic. There are no equations that we can solve or scientific rules to be applied. They don’t lend themselves to the laws that Faraday, Newton or Einstein spoke of. Sudoku can be understood, this cannot at least not in the traditional sense. And that is ok.

Sometimes you have to let go and believe. Magic isn’t something that only children can experience. I know better and so do you. There is a reason why hope springs eternal, some day we’ll talk about that.