The death of a moon cowboy

I am a somewhat-youth with ideas and thoughts and too many dreams that sometimes overflow as these little dribblings from my fingertips. I guess you can try to collect and capture them.


Thursday, September 01, 2005

The circus: Scenic route [IV]

I'd been thinking as I walked. My eyes had grown mostly accustomed to the dark, and I could make out the dotted yellow line that separated the lanes. It became my pathway, a target my feet would follow, one after the other, step by step, as I strode down the center of the road. Parsons was such a nowhere town, it had never hit me as strongly before as it did just then. Middle of the night, middle of nowhere, one restless body casually strolling down automobile territory when it should be slumbering home in bed. Each time I approached a sign or milemarker, I danced across to that side of the road and slapped it as hard as I could. It stung, but the marvelous echoing sound it created was well worth the pain. By morning, I figured my palms would have the indentions of reflectors and rivets permanently embedded in them.

I must have walked three miles, but there were no landmarks worth mentioning and the view was the same in either direction: lonely road, sagebrush and dirt shoulders. Somewhere in the distance on either side were the hollow hills.

Then, on the right, an ominous shadow slowly began to come into view. My curiosity caused me to step up my pace. As I grew closer I saw it was just another road sign, one of the "distance-until-town" variety. It read "Dover - 9 miles, Erid – 35 miles". So I had come this far. I stood there dumbfounded for some reason, reading those few letters over and over again, studying the metallic outline and the green sign, its wooden post and precise placement off the side of the road. This was a modern wonder!

I was mid-into this thought when it seemed there was a piercing heat at my back, like a welder's torch, accompanied by what sounded like an airplane taking off. With reflexes that surprised even me, I practically dove into the brush as a speeding car with its brights on screamed past, flinging up little pebbles and pieces of gravel in its wake. No laughs, no fists out the window, no yelling of "stupid kid!" Did they even see me? It was clearly an attempt on my life! I swore one day I'd take revenge, though I was unable to clearly identify the vehicle's license plate, color, or just about anything particular about it at all. That mileage sign had seen the whole thing though, but it continued to look on, uninterested.

I pushed myself onto my knees and dusted off my clothes, looking back out onto the shoulder. The small patch of dirt immediately behind the sign looked strangely inviting; it was void of rock or foliage, so I crawled on all fours over to it. Once there, I stretched out fully on my back there in the dirt, like a pig frolicking in his mud. My view of the night sky was now uninhibited. There I lay, pleased and covered in dust, as I once again became Perseus, in pursuit of the imprisoned Andromeda, prepared to make battle with Poseidon's monster of the deep and rescue my queen. I closed my eyes, sword at the ready.

Suddenly the full moon shone at its brightest, shattering my vision. It was directly overhead in high noon position, sending its blinding brilliance straight down into my face and eyes. The moon? Had I fallen asleep for weeks, a modern-day Rip Van Winkle? Instinctively, I threw my forearms up to block the glare.

A heavenly voice came down from above, "Son? Are you okay?" This must be a ghostly messenger! Perhaps the voice of Perseus defending his venerable name?

Then the whole of the full moon jerked aside as abruptly as it came. I opened my eyes to find two policemen with flashlights towering over me.

"What on earth are you doing? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to sleep next to a busy highway like this?" This cop was stocky with a rounding belly, and he had a full brown mustache, neatly trimmed into a perfect structure. It bristled up and down as he spoke, in cartoonish motion. His companion was apparently mute. He was thinner and younger, and kept swerving his all eyes all about, as if he expected to find a sack of plundered goods stashed somewhere off the road.

"You live around here?"

I groggily rubbed my eyes and cleared my throat, wondering how long I'd been asleep. "Yeah, in Parsons."

"So did you walk all the way out here? Do you realize that it is almost five in the morning?" The mustache quivered again.

"I wasn't tired so I went for a walk. But don't worry, it's safe out here at this time of night; I didn't even see one car."

"Wasn't tired, sure!" He laughed like I imagined Santa Claus would, clutching his belly and bending backwards, while rolling up on the balls of his feet. "And I bet you never saw a car. Here kid, get in, we'll give you a ride home. But I want you to promise me I'll never see you out on this road again. That is, unless you're driving of course!" He killed himself with his jokes.

"Thanks officer. And yeah, I promise."

The drive home was uneventful. The mustached man - Officer Mooney was his name - asked for directions to my house, while the thin companion sat in silence. I felt like I was incarcerated there in the back seat, with that metal grille separating the cab from the back. I daydreamed about being a famous criminal, a bank robber finally nabbed after years of running from the law and living the high life. We got home in about fifteen minutes. I guess I hadn't walked that far after all.

"Thank again, officers," I managed as I stepped out of the car. I shut the door as quietly as possible. The squad car drove off slowly. I think they were watching me as I walked up my front steps, making sure I wasn't some runaway hooligan ready to bolt as soon as they left my line of sight.

Once they had turned the corner, I left the porch and went around to the back of the house where I had left the window open. It was shut. So much for my smooth reentry. So I plucked a few handfuls of leaves from the big oak tree in our backyard and made them into a nice little pile right below the windowsill. There weren't very many, but they were fresh and still rather tender, green and soft. I curled up into a ball there in my new bed with its leafy pillow and shut my eyes, trying to ignore the hint of morning twilight that was starting to fill the sky.

2 comments:

moonshinejunkyard said...

whoa, what's with the anonymous posting...okay.... anyway, i'm intrigued, i am loving it, keep going! the only thing i can't figure out (maybe i need to go back and reread the first part) is how old is he? does he live with his mom or what, why did he have to sneak out his window? anyway, i'm sure if i read on i will figure it all out. bravo mattie!

Joseph Beatty said...

this=awesome. the song im listening to said "circus" as i looked at the title too, which was crazy. on to the next!