its an old joke goes something
like this if you remember stop me no sense wastin breath or time on an old
harhar
a double amputee sits in a
thrashed wheelchair at a street intersection a little yellow dog in his lap he waits
to cross waits on the lights to change to follow the white-lined pedestrian crosswalk
he aint really a pedestrian
an attorney could argue he aint got legs
from behind a black shadow falls
over him
he jerks startled by the
soundless suddenness of it
even the dog is taken unaware
its a big corner
the amputee images the
shadowcaster could have come up on either side of him rather than directly
behind him uncomfortably at his back christ hes ridin a chair he aint agile he aint
fit
perturbed a bit frantic he turns
his chair akimbo throwing a glance over his left saying You startled me
his eyes
look up into and meet a black featureless face a shadow casting a shadow he
almost rolls awkwardly off the curb into the street into the tight moving traffic
certainly they must see the
motorists this huge black monolith
the dog sits up in his senseless
lap cocks its head remains quiet fixing the amputee with more disquiet the dog
was a yipper hed go hoarse by days end tellin Tiny to be quiet Shaddup when his
patience was exhausted
Tiny didnt listen well or fear the
amputees hand or a rolled newspaper
Tiny was keenly aware the man would have to
roll to catch him he wasnt swift he was as much bark as Tiny
Tinys confusion equaled the
amputees
it was a strange black thing
the amputees halting breath stuttering
wordless was terrorized nothing percolating
in his brain captured caught on this corner traffic hurtling traffic at his
elbow
he found himself fingering his
breast pocket
one could suppose without knees
this unconscious action suggested where or what reflexes he had might remain
fumbling he grasped at pamphlets
feathering his baggy shirt pocket
he didnt take his eyes off the
black nonexistent face a hollow a slight
protuberance at once static
several fell from his pocket onto
Tiny
Tiny didnt seem to notice fascinated
his fingers found one he careless
glanced to find if its face was up or down and trembling slightly his fingers deftly
rotated flipped the pamphlet so when he presented it its title was immediately readable
a well-practised
manipulation
he took a deep breath and exhaled
May I offer you this
the pamphlets was titled ARE YOU
GOOD ENOUGH TO GO TO HEAVEN?
there was a yellow haloed suggestive
sunburst at the top over ARE YOU
GOOD was emboldened and also in
the sunburst yellow
at its bottom beneath HEAVEN emboldened
in blue was also an inverted billowing blue cloud
HEAVEN filled with yellow light and
blue clarity
if the black shadow opened the
pamphlet it would have seen possibly read its first tenet YOU SHALL HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE
ME
the amputee knowing his ware must
truly have been mortified unthinking . . . BEFORE
ME
was he GOOD ENOUGH TO GO TO
HEAVEN
Tiny was a shoo-in
BEFORE
ME . . .
if the black shadow turned the
pamphlet over to its back side it would have seen possibly read By the way, someone cared enough
about you to give you this tract.
that was dishonest
the pamphlet was a feign
the traffic noise behind the
amputee lulled
he went off the curb backwards
without looking landing agilely Tiny agilely keeping his seat and sped arms
churning madly across the street six lanes wide
he never saw the vehicle that crushed
him
anymore than the driver of the pick-up hastily making a right not stopping for the red ever saw the amputee or Tiny
Tiny was a shoo-in
(occurred to me
yesterday 2053) am ReggaeFriday, 25 3. 16
0940, Saturday,
26 3. 16
