Wednesday, September 17, 2008

New Story: Ingenuous

His name is George. Simply George, no last name to speak of, at least in his own mind, to the rest of the world it is Markham. George has several psychological issues that force him to need a caretaker for his day to day activities. He has a simple job working on a dock exactly one block down and one block over from his house. Every day when George goes to work he counts his steps, to the exact number of 1,482, timing his pace perfectly. At home he has the hobby of creating works of art from Starburst wrappers. He has a dozen roommates, each with their own distinctive personality who generally operate outside his scope. That wouldn't be very difficult to do.

Today is a very special day to George. It's hot dog day and that means more to him than anything else that could possibly occur on Wednesday. Nothing could satisfy George quite like a hot dog from the Greek vendor that arrived at the dock every Wednesday. There was something about the way the Grecian fellow made the hot dog, whether it was the spices he used, the tzaziki he smothered it in or the feta he used that struck George's palette that was normally a home to the most fundamental of sustenance choices.

George left his apartment going through the same routine he has gone through since the passing of his mother twenty years prior. George had a poor sense of time passing so in order to compensate and appease his infinitely patient boss, he developed a routine, guided by his caretaker Alyssa.

Closing Time

And now I know what it means. What he meant when he said "I just want to be a good friend." I thought that was a given, something that was understood, that didn't need to be put into words, but that makes sense. I never gave a thought to anything in my life, simply accepting whatever came my way, including her, at face value.

Why did he have to die? Why did he have to leave this plain before I could make amends for the wrongs I had done? Did my poor karma spill over into his life until his spirit could take no more? Oh how many times I acted to the disappointment of others, motivated by some awkward sense of self preservation or pure selfishness. But I know what to do now and my purchase won't suffice. This is what it takes to make amends. All my other alternatives left with her, through her, in her. I will never be able to see my son, she turned into what I always knew her to be, what he knew her to be and I chose to ignore it.

This is my new beginning.