He stood on the side of the road. A wide expanse of nearly nothing but dry dusty fields surrounds him. The only blemishes on the landscapes are the ancient, rundown one-room bus station, a light pole and a few signs. The attendant coughs 20-years of her smoking addiction in one long raspy wheeze. Something Tommy heard effortlessly through the half rotten walls, even over the howling wind.
He rocks on his heals adjusting the heavy pack on his left shoulder. “Twenty-five minutes before my life to start.” He thinks aloud.
Tommy Clearwater was a tall young man of 18, with the sun-kissed skin of his people. The Paiute. He decided now was the time of his life to set out and see the world, to find the opportunities outside of his small town. He knew he’d miss his family, but he had to do this. Still, the thought of sacrificing his relationships of the ties to his family’s way of life was a hard pill to swallow. He didn’t feel right about making this choice, but what could he do? He sighed and kicked his boot at the dusty ground.
He rocks on his heals adjusting the heavy pack on his left shoulder. “Twenty-five minutes before my life to start.” He thinks aloud.
Tommy Clearwater was a tall young man of 18, with the sun-kissed skin of his people. The Paiute. He decided now was the time of his life to set out and see the world, to find the opportunities outside of his small town. He knew he’d miss his family, but he had to do this. Still, the thought of sacrificing his relationships of the ties to his family’s way of life was a hard pill to swallow. He didn’t feel right about making this choice, but what could he do? He sighed and kicked his boot at the dusty ground.
The sun beat harshly on his shoulders; it was almost too warm for his jacket, though he knew it was too cold and windy to be in his t-shirt alone. A crow caws in the sky above him. He watches as the silhouette glides in the deep azure sky wondering what it would be like just to fly away.
A cloud of dust kicks up behind a blazing red Corvette. The radio blares and the cries of joy are heard over the thunder of tiers on pavement. “Fucking rich kids!” Tommy grunts glaring at the spoiled brats as they pass. He’d seen them his whole life rubbing their parents’ wealth into everyone’s faces relentlessly. As if they had worked to earn a thing. Yet even as he regarded them with disgust he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of envy. Not over their possessions, but for all the opportunities they had at their wasteful fingertips. College, employment and a high chance at a comfortable living, and those punks would be the first to fuck it up and throw it away like it was nothing.
He coughed on the choking dust kicked up in the wake of the speeding car. Maybe he coughed too hard for his stomach cramped doubling him over. He thought the sensations were odd. His body was thrumming with dizzying electricity. He shook his hands in an attempt to rid his fingers of the feeling.
“Something about those kids make you mad, son?” A deep voice called out behind him.
Tommy spun around on heals, startled. A moment ago he was alone. Could someone really have snuck up behind him in such a short time? Once around, he paused. His mind had difficulty wrapping itself around what he saw for a long moment. Mouth agape, he fumbled for words.
On a low mud stone wall a man half leaned, half sat with his legs outstretched before him, crossed at the ankles. He wore a dark brown, brimmed hat which sat low on his head and cast half of his dark face in deep shadow. His long raven hair framed his lean features, unmoved by the wind. The wind, Tommy noticed, had stopped. He looked around finding not only had this man and the wall he leaned against appeared from thin air, but the entire landscape changed. The station was gone, replaced by a red-brown adobe house. The dry dusty flats were replaced by an expanse of wide sweeping meadows. There was no road to be seen anywhere.
A full turn later and he was back regarding the apparent magician whose eyes were sharp and focused but regarding the horizon. Tommy shook his head. He was being rude, the man asked a question and Tommy had been too dumbstruck to answer. “I’m sorry, sir but could you repeat what you said?”
A slight twitch tugged at the corner of the man’s lips. His version of a smile perhaps. “I asked if there was something about those kids that made you mad.”
“Uh, yes sir.” Tommy stammered and looked down in shame. The stranger must have heard his comment.
The man was quiet for a moment then regarded Tommy with bright eyes. “Well Mr. Clearwater, what is it that makes you angry with them? Did they do something to you or are you mad they have everything you want?”
Tommy’s mouth closed with a snap. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Yes, now answer the question.”
“No, they didn’t do anything to me.”
“Then you envy them for their possessions?” The stranger questioned without hesitation.
“No, that’s not it.” Tommy said a little taken aback by the current situation. “They’re the sort of people who are given every opportunity in life and waste it. They stand on the shoulders of people who provide them with everything and they’re completely ungrateful.” He shook his head. “I just don’t get it. My parents were honest, hardworking and they always struggled to make ends meet. They were never given anything but were still grateful for every blessing. It’s not right.”
Again the stranger was quiet. “You don’t think this is fair. You think that people should be rewarded for having good strong hearts and minds and for being grateful for their blessings?”
Tommy nodded and walked over to lean against the wall with the unnamed man.
“Please allow me to enlighten you Mr. Clearwater.” The man said in a soft tone without looking at Tommy. His gaze was once again set on the horizon. He lifted his right hand and pushed aside the lapel of his black leather jacket to retrieve an item in his breast pocket. Tommy watched the man out of his peripheral, he didn’t want to stare.
“You can think of it like that, but it won’t do you much good.” The man said and paused for a moment. He continued and withdrew a hand-rolled, filterless cigarette from his pocket. “I’d like you to think of it another way. You understand we all have paths to walk in this life?”
A cloud of dust kicks up behind a blazing red Corvette. The radio blares and the cries of joy are heard over the thunder of tiers on pavement. “Fucking rich kids!” Tommy grunts glaring at the spoiled brats as they pass. He’d seen them his whole life rubbing their parents’ wealth into everyone’s faces relentlessly. As if they had worked to earn a thing. Yet even as he regarded them with disgust he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of envy. Not over their possessions, but for all the opportunities they had at their wasteful fingertips. College, employment and a high chance at a comfortable living, and those punks would be the first to fuck it up and throw it away like it was nothing.
He coughed on the choking dust kicked up in the wake of the speeding car. Maybe he coughed too hard for his stomach cramped doubling him over. He thought the sensations were odd. His body was thrumming with dizzying electricity. He shook his hands in an attempt to rid his fingers of the feeling.
“Something about those kids make you mad, son?” A deep voice called out behind him.
Tommy spun around on heals, startled. A moment ago he was alone. Could someone really have snuck up behind him in such a short time? Once around, he paused. His mind had difficulty wrapping itself around what he saw for a long moment. Mouth agape, he fumbled for words.
On a low mud stone wall a man half leaned, half sat with his legs outstretched before him, crossed at the ankles. He wore a dark brown, brimmed hat which sat low on his head and cast half of his dark face in deep shadow. His long raven hair framed his lean features, unmoved by the wind. The wind, Tommy noticed, had stopped. He looked around finding not only had this man and the wall he leaned against appeared from thin air, but the entire landscape changed. The station was gone, replaced by a red-brown adobe house. The dry dusty flats were replaced by an expanse of wide sweeping meadows. There was no road to be seen anywhere.
A full turn later and he was back regarding the apparent magician whose eyes were sharp and focused but regarding the horizon. Tommy shook his head. He was being rude, the man asked a question and Tommy had been too dumbstruck to answer. “I’m sorry, sir but could you repeat what you said?”
A slight twitch tugged at the corner of the man’s lips. His version of a smile perhaps. “I asked if there was something about those kids that made you mad.”
“Uh, yes sir.” Tommy stammered and looked down in shame. The stranger must have heard his comment.
The man was quiet for a moment then regarded Tommy with bright eyes. “Well Mr. Clearwater, what is it that makes you angry with them? Did they do something to you or are you mad they have everything you want?”
Tommy’s mouth closed with a snap. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Yes, now answer the question.”
“No, they didn’t do anything to me.”
“Then you envy them for their possessions?” The stranger questioned without hesitation.
“No, that’s not it.” Tommy said a little taken aback by the current situation. “They’re the sort of people who are given every opportunity in life and waste it. They stand on the shoulders of people who provide them with everything and they’re completely ungrateful.” He shook his head. “I just don’t get it. My parents were honest, hardworking and they always struggled to make ends meet. They were never given anything but were still grateful for every blessing. It’s not right.”
Again the stranger was quiet. “You don’t think this is fair. You think that people should be rewarded for having good strong hearts and minds and for being grateful for their blessings?”
Tommy nodded and walked over to lean against the wall with the unnamed man.
“Please allow me to enlighten you Mr. Clearwater.” The man said in a soft tone without looking at Tommy. His gaze was once again set on the horizon. He lifted his right hand and pushed aside the lapel of his black leather jacket to retrieve an item in his breast pocket. Tommy watched the man out of his peripheral, he didn’t want to stare.
“You can think of it like that, but it won’t do you much good.” The man said and paused for a moment. He continued and withdrew a hand-rolled, filterless cigarette from his pocket. “I’d like you to think of it another way. You understand we all have paths to walk in this life?”
Tommy glanced at the man then back at the place where the asphalt road once was. “Yes.”
“Then contemplate this: the soul’s journey is determined by the Creator and is based on the strength of the soul; the more arduous the path, the stronger the soul.” He said then looked to where the red Corvette disappeared. The man glanced at him then pulled a match from the same pocket. “Souls like that have it easy because they’re too weak to walk a hard road.” He said, struck the match against the wall and lit the cigarette.
Tommy felt a sudden sharp burst of anger from this revelation. “What, is that supposed to make me feel better?”
The man looked at him and narrowed his eyes. The look on his face broke Tommy out in shivers. “No, Mr. Clearwater. It’s simply medicine to keep the bitterness at bay.” He said and blew smoke in Tommy’s face.
The smoke was thick and Tommy felt himself choking on it as it surrounded him. He doubled over coughing once more.
By the time he could catch a breath, Tommy looked around to find the land to the horizon had resumed its dry dusty state. The smoking man vanished and the decrepit bus stop reappeared.
As the bus pulled up to come to rest before Tommy Clearwater, the doors opened and a crow cawed in the distance. The sound of it echoed through Tommy’s mind and all of the apprehension over his trip and decision to leave faded. He was ready for his path.
“Then contemplate this: the soul’s journey is determined by the Creator and is based on the strength of the soul; the more arduous the path, the stronger the soul.” He said then looked to where the red Corvette disappeared. The man glanced at him then pulled a match from the same pocket. “Souls like that have it easy because they’re too weak to walk a hard road.” He said, struck the match against the wall and lit the cigarette.
Tommy felt a sudden sharp burst of anger from this revelation. “What, is that supposed to make me feel better?”
The man looked at him and narrowed his eyes. The look on his face broke Tommy out in shivers. “No, Mr. Clearwater. It’s simply medicine to keep the bitterness at bay.” He said and blew smoke in Tommy’s face.
The smoke was thick and Tommy felt himself choking on it as it surrounded him. He doubled over coughing once more.
By the time he could catch a breath, Tommy looked around to find the land to the horizon had resumed its dry dusty state. The smoking man vanished and the decrepit bus stop reappeared.
As the bus pulled up to come to rest before Tommy Clearwater, the doors opened and a crow cawed in the distance. The sound of it echoed through Tommy’s mind and all of the apprehension over his trip and decision to leave faded. He was ready for his path.
© 2010 R. Renée Vickers (All Rights Reserved)
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