#4
Spring Fever Edition
Claire and Karen
“Did you see that sunset?” I asked her.
”It was glorious.”
“No,” she said.
”What are you doing?”
“I just got done watching the sunset,” I answered.
”Now I’m just sitting here.”
“That’s not your yard”, she said.
“I know,” I replied.
”They’ve given me permission to watch the sunset from their yard
any time I want. Even if they’re not home.”
The view is different from their yard.
“They love you,” she said.
“I know they do,” I answered.
”I’m glad they do. I love them both too.”
She came over and sat in their backyard with me.
We sat for over an hour.
She has a pet tortoise.
It’s smaller than you might think.
She thought she was buying one of those big ones.
This one fits in her hand.
It’s teeny, and has super long legs.
Karen says we all like teeny things on this block.
The truth in that simple statement makes me smile.
“We saw your cat out here looking for you earlier. He’s so cute,”
they said across the fence to me one day.
“He’s not my cat,” I said. “He’s just decided that he and I are going
to be best friends and I said ok.”
Those were the first words we ever spoke to each other.
I would not be sitting in their yard tonight otherwise.
“What’s his name?” they asked.
“Mostly I just call him Little,” I replied.
That's how it all began.
The Only Living Boy in New York
I was having a magical day with the nephews.
Laughing
Running around.
Talking about time travel theories
and all the other things that are important.
It was unseasonably warm for March,
and we laid down in the cul-de-sac
and took turns tracing each other,
making chalk versions of ourselves.
My nephew drew a lightning bolt on my chalk version's shirt.
The kid next door was outside too.
He’s in first grade.
"I get the news I need from the weather report,"
I sang out at the top of my lungs.
I get the news I need I need from the weather reportttttttt.
“What does the weather report say?” the kid asked,
from over my shoulder.
“It says Sunny,” I told him.
”It says ALL THE SUN.”
This song is called Chad
Discoball World
Alvin
Karla and June Renita
on roller skates in the parking lot
doing a choreographed skate dance routine to Abba songs.
Sunny.
Karla and I each had a Friday 8am class that winter.
We'd ride to school together, early in the morning,
listening to classic country WSIG
or Hoyt Axton Explodes, on cassette.
We'd sing along to Boney Fingers,
shouting out the "Woo Hoo" parts as loud as we could every time.
The heat hardly worked in my old copper colored Tercel.
It wouldn’t ever kick in until the train tracks
right before we got to school.
We'd be warm for the last 3 minutes of the drive.
The first time I met her son he was 6 years old and had a mohawk.
He charged at life full speed ahead, with no fear.
His bike helmet made him look like a rocketeer.
He'd fly his bicycle around the campground like a spaceship.
He always was eating the best snacks.
I kidded him all weekend that he should share them with me.
"I love ice cream!" I'd say, "Come on!"
He'd grin and shake his head,
and tell me to get my own.
Sometimes if it was chips or crackers he'd give me one.
He wouldn't ever hand me the whole bag though.
He'd get one out with his dirty camping fingers
and hand it to me.
It wasn't exactly what I had in mind,
but I'd take it, and be grateful.
People share things when camping at a music festival.
A week after the festival I got a message from Karla.
She said it was so much fun, and we should do it again soon.
She said that Alvin was currently playing outside with 3 huge tomato caterpillars
and that he'd named one of the caterpillars after me.
She said the other 2 were Hugh and Ballerina.
She said she thought I might wanna know that.
Rainbows and sunshine and fireworks explosions.
Sometimes when I think sunny thoughts
I think about Karla and June Renita
in the parking lot of Mad Manor on roller skates
doing a choreographed dance routine to Abba songs.
"Come on Karla!" June yells,
and they join hands and laugh
and spin around and around together
totally in time with the Swedish pop music
blaring from the stereo.
“I don’t like waiting,” Alvin says, “I just go for it.”
”We know buddy,” Karla says, “we know.”
Writing from someone else
The Debbies
Jodi at typewriterrodeo.com
Stay strong 💥⚡🚀