***stories***

[---gush!---]

I like my coffee with a little milk and sugar. Been drinkin it that way ever since I was 5 years old. No, that's not some old man's yarn, it's the truth. I was allergic to milk, still am I think. I was at my friends house, and his mom was drinking coffee, and she set out some milk and cookies for us boys to have. When she noticed I wasn't drinking it, she asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't drink milk. Now of course, all mom's know little boys drink milk, it's in their genes to know that. Women are born knowing milk is good for children, don't need lessons to learn that. God gave them the equipment to deliver it, and the emotions to go along with it; that giving milk was a good thing. And long after a woman stopped having children, having her equipment, well you know what i mean, still brings her pleasure.

[---gush!---]

She asked me why I didn't drink milk. I thought about it kinda hard. I never ever remembered drinking milk, except a little in my coffee. Never really had thought about it up till then. No need too. That's just the way it was. Until i started playing with other kids and went to their homes, everything I did was normal. And you don't question normal things, and the way things are, until you see things done different. Seeing my friend drink milk was normal, cause my brother always drank milk too. Just me and my mom and my dad drank coffee in the morning. And if he had a brother, I suppose his brother would drink coffee just like me.

[---gush!---]

I told her cause I just didn't. Now that isn't a good answer for a mom. I mean they are used to hearing "cause" but they want to explore it, find out the real reason. Get you talking your head off and spilling all your secrets. And little boys have lots of secrets that mom's want to know. That's why they're always fussing all over their kids. Checking 'em out. Checking behind their ears and lookin all over. Wondering where this bruise came from, and that mole, like chimps looking for lice. Yup, mom's even looked for that. Even find that neat rock you found buried deep down in your pants pocket. The best rock of all rocks, the one meant just for you. "Well what do you drink?" she asked. Now that was a strange mom question, one I wasn't used to. Mom's are supposed to know everything. Even though she wasn't my mom, I kinda suspected all mom's knew everything. I knew my mom did. She told me so many times how could I forget.

[---gush!---]

I told her I drink coffee. She laughed that wonderful mom laugh, the kind where their teeth show and mouth opens and their eyes close a little bit, but in their eyes you can see love forever. I knew she was a good mom, hadn't seen any bad ones yet, but she had love in her eyes. Well, she done something kind of weird next. Something I wouldn't of guessed in a million years, not then anyway. She said, "well let me get you a cup." Yes she did, and I ain't a lyin. Stood right up and got me a real nice cup with a saucer. Had little blue flowers on it, just the same as her cup and saucer. I sat down, my feet not reaching the floor, swinging my legs. Now my friend thought this was strange too, cause he started laughing. He wanted some too, but his mom told him no. Coffee was for older people. She set the coffee down in front of me. It smelled real good. Brewed coffee, not that instant stuff you get today. I'd rather dip an old shoe in some hot water and drink that then this instant coffee they got today.

[---gush!---]

That's why I stop down here at Johnson's convenience store everyday. To get me a good cup of coffee. Well, I also come here to talk to Joe and Charlie and sometimes Evie has time if she ain't waitin on customers. Evie cooks real good coffee. Brews it on the stove just like my mom did. Says she puts egg shells and salt in it, makes it less bitter. Don't know about that, but with milk and sugar it tastes real good. Evie's a widow, ever since her husband Frank died 10 years ago. They used to run the store together, but now it's just her and Albert. Albert is Henry Wheeler's boy. He ain't got it all together in the head, but he's a good boy, well man, but he don't do man stuff if you know what I mean. Don't mean he ain't a nice fella, he sure is, just he's slow sometimes. We're all kind of slow I guess, sometimes we just don't know it. Now what she said to her boy didn't make sense, I mean he was as old as I and I was getting coffee. Maybe he was a little slow too, but back then who could tell. He stopped askin and gulped his milk. He was grinnin, thinkin something was going to happen bad to me, like the first time me an charlie tried to smoke one of his dad's cigars. You know that look. You give your little brother something plain awful to eat, like stuff your dad really likes to eat, an tell him it tastes good. You can''t hardly stop grinning waiting to laugh when he chucks it up. Well he was watching me close and so was his mom. She sat down and watched me staring at the cup. "Anything wrong" she asked. She was a grinnin. I told her I needed milk and sugar............

[---gush!---]

I thought you didn't drink milk?" she said. She looked at me kind of funny. The way your mom looks at you when she thinks something isnt right with you. I should know, there are lots of times my mom didn't think I was right in the head. When I was three I got run over by a car. People always say they get run over by a car, but the car just hit me and knocked me down, but the wheel came to a stop on my head. Got the scar to prove it. The doctor told my mom to keep and eye on me because someday, any day, I could just go crazy. They didn't have all those fancy doctors tools they have now, like brain scans and such. So my mom did as she was told, and I remember seeing her looking at me funny a lot of times. I think she was checking me out to see if I had gone crazy. I told her only in my coffee, just to make it muddy looking. She poured a little milk in it. I put two lumps of sugar in it and stirred it with a sthingy, only the way a kid can stir. I'm sure there wasn't much porcelin left in the inside of that cup when I was done. It wasn't the right colored mud, but I didn't want to bother her anymore. I picked up the cup with both hands and took a sip. How is it she asked before I could really get a taste. It was hot. She was smiling broadly. She had a wonderful smile. Tell you the truth, her coffee wasn't that good. My mom made it better, but I had some manners even then. "Good" I said, taking a big swig. I must have made a face, because she justs busts out laughing which got me to laughing and that coffee just shot out my nose. Yessir, just a streamin. Funny the things you remember. A good cup of coffee will help you remember. Must be why so many folks drink it. But I understand, Charlie was tellin me he read it in the papers, that folks don't drink as much coffee as they used to. Say it is bad for you. It's always been good to me. Helps me think and helps me remember. Now they are all drinking that diet soda and such. Those advertisin fellas got them to believe the stuff tastes good. Diet soda tastes like battery acid, if you ask me. Tried it once, had to pour the can out. Darned if the can didn't taste better than the soda. Poured it near a lilac bush in the yard. d**n near killed it. Now coffee grounds, you can spread them anywhere in the yard and helps things grow. Kind of like fertilizer my daddy used to say. Sure enough looks like dirt. Must fool the plants into thinkin it is dirt. I'm no expert on agriculture though, so don't take my word for it. I couldn't make nothing grow, but my daddy could. He should have been a farmer, but farming wasn't his trade. But I think deep down, he wanted to be a farmer. Always liked having land and grubbing his hands in the dirt. But he didn't have no choice on what he wanted to be. His dad told him. So he spent his whole life not doing what he really wanted to do, cept when he retired. He died a few years ago on his farm. He died a farmer. So I guess it all worked out in the end. Here's to you daddy.

[---gush!---]

Still miss him today. We didn't talk much, but I sat across from him many a morning drinking coffee. He liked his with milk and sugar too, real sweet. Drank it real fast, like someone was going to steal it if he didn't. Found out later he didn't have much as a kid, and if he was late for dinner he got a whuppin and no dinner to boot. Doesn't quite seem fair.

[---gush!---]

Whoa, I've been talkin quite a spell. Think I'll just sip my coffee, and listen a bit. Can learn a whole lot listening.........

[---gush!---]

Sorry, must have fallen asleep. Do that sometimes, well, a lot of times I guess. Some say old folks don't need as much sleep, usually old folks sayin that, but let me tell you they sleep more than a newborn baby. They just don't count all the times they fall asleep in a chair or in the middle of a sentence. Sleep is for healing, and the older you get the more healing you seem to need. Kind of nice out tonight. Must have slept the afternoon away. Real peaceful listening to the crickets and watching the fireflies over by the marsh. Think I'll make me some coffee. Want some? Coffee is for remembering and sleepin is for forgettin. Trouble is, when you wake up you remember all over again, the good and the bad. I try to remember mostly the good. No sense in dwelling on the bad. Knowed a lot of people who dwelt on the pain and suffering, and before they knew it life passed them by. But heck, there I go again ramblin on like some crazy old man with no sense. Sure wish a breeze would kick up, it's kind of warm tonight. I like a nice evening breeze, feels gentle on the little hairs on your arms. Cools you off real nice.

[---gush!---]

I remember the first time I seen this marsh, must of been 30 years ago. My car broke down up the road a spell. Had driven by the place a hundred times, and never paid it no mind. Was in an all fire hurry to get on with life, find my place, leave my mark. Didn't know what kind of mark I was going to leave, but that didn't seem to matter. Wanted to get away from this hick town, why hell they didn't even have a McDonalds. Like having a McDonalds was important. But when I was younger, lots of things seemed important that don't anymore. A fancy car, and nice clothes, and a real pretty girlfriend. Funny thing, all the really pretty girls stayed home on Friday and Saturday night. Trouble was, us fellas didn't know they were pretty then. We were interested in the flashy ones, with the teased hair and make-up. Didn't matter that they didn't know their left from their right, but they sure could chew gum. How they could chew a big wad of bubble gum. Blow bubbles and snap it just so. Didn't take much to fire the imagination of a 16 year old boy. Of course, we didn't know what we were supposed to be imagining, so we had to go to package store and sneak around by the magazines. Now old man Turner, he owned the package store, he was a fire and brimstone man. Now why he carried those magazines in his store I never quite figured out, but he must of had 3 eyes in his head, cuz whenever me and joe and charlie went into his store, he watched us like a hawk. If we got within five yards of those magazines, he would be calling out our names and asking us what we were doing. So we had to go to the next town over, where no one knew us. There was a convenience store they call em now, that was run by this Arab fella. Well, we thought he was an Arab. He didn't look like none of us. He didn't speak English so good either. He was kind of dark, and had a big mustache, He acted like he never paid us no mind, cept when we was headin for the door without buyin nothing. Then he kind of corraled us and looked us over, to make sure we weren't stealing anything, I think. Well I know, cuz he said stuff like, "if you don't buy, don't come in my store." So Charlie, one time gets this Swank magazine, and bold as brass walks up to him and puts it on the counter. Well, the Arab guy just looks at him and says two dollars ninety five cents. We couldn't believe it. So we all chipped in, and give him the money, and the Arab guy puts it in a sack, and hands it to Charlie. Now we never expected anything like that to happen - not in a million years. Charlie still laughs about it today. Well, after sitting in the woods for about an hour, and discussin it real good, we had imaginations. Not that any of it made sense, but it sure did at the time.

[---gush!---]

Now if I had only been smarter back then, I would have realized that the flashy women weren't the real pretty ones. There was this girl Loretta. When I think back on it she was beautiful. Beautiful on the outside as well as the inside. She didn't tease her hair or wear pointy shoes and short dresses. She dressed real lady like. And she was always kind and considerate and never said a bad word about anybody. I used to talk to her a lot about feelings and such, and she was such a great listener. I thought of her as a pal, and now that I think on it, I must have bored her to tears with all my stories, but she never complained. Always had a ready smile and an understanding way about her. Took me a long time to realize how important a smile is. A smile is the most attractive thing about a woman. And Loretta was an attractive woman. She moved away and I never heard what happened to her. But I think she is out there somewhere smiling, and making someone very happy...

[---gush!---]

saw that movie Titanic at the picture show not to long ago. Most folks said they didn’t like it, but it seems a lot of folks went to a movie they didn’t like. I liked it. Made me cry. Us old guys can cry now at the movies, people think we peed our pants or something, and pay us no never mind, except move a few seats away. I ain’t that old that I need them old folks diapers yet, but if I live that long, will probably end up with them. Yup, life is a cycle, they put diapers on ya when you are born and put em on ya when you get ready to die. Seems this poor fella and rich girl fall in love on this boat. And the boat sinks and the poor fella dies. But the girl carries her love for this fella her entire life. The girls name is Rose and the fella’s name is Jack. It is a made up story so Charlie tells it, weren’t no Rose or Jack on the real Titanic. But Charlie’s one for ruining a good story by getting facts in the way.

[---gush!---]

Anyway, the reason I got to crying was not about the story, but because it made me think about my own Rose. Rose isn’t her name, but it don’t matter much. She was every woman and maybe she wasn’t any woman at all. Sometimes I think she was just an imagination I conjured up deep down inside and breathed into life and form. But she got me started on that first step of life’s journey, the one everyone makes, to find that one person to share your hopes, and dreams, and sorrows.

[---gush!---]

Funny thing was I liked sharing her dreams and hopes more than my own. I guess her hopes and dreams became my own. It’s kind of like rootin for your favorite football team. You want them to win so bad, and when they do win, you feel so good for them. Even if you didn’t have anything to do with it. Even if they don’t know you were rootin for them. Joe says that is the highest form of love, selfless love. Joe went to college, and he is real smart. And when I get to thinking about Rose, I was always happiest when she succeeded, when she had one of her hopes come true. She wanted to be the first one in her family to go to college, and she did. And I was never more happy then the day she graduated. Smiling from ear to ear with her diploma, and her mom and dad at her side. I went to her graduation party. She introduced me to a fella she met in college. He was a nice fella, smart and all. Had a real easy manner and talked real educated like. I kind of knew then, that I wouldn’t be sharing any of Rose’s dreams anymore, not like when we sat under the Sycamore tree by the school. But whatever your dreams are, I’m still rootin for you Rose. Well, there I go talking on again. Must be boring you to death. Sometimes, just like coffee, a movie will get you to rememberin. Yes it will…

[---gush!---]

Now don't get to frettin. He just got knocked out for a spell. His name is Wally, well that's what I call him anyway. Don't know what his other beavers call him, but Wally seems to fit. He lives down by the marsh, and every year somebody gets it in his head to blow up his dam. And every year Wally, just like he's been trained to do, makes a new one. Just a simple life. No rights no wrongs. If you got a dam repair it, if you don't, make one. But I'm a thinking even beavers think about stuff. Wally maybe had somethin else on his mind that was troubling him. And when we don't pay attention, that's when things happen to us. Maybe he'll learn a lesson from this. I'm a hoping so. Just like that philosopher Murphy said, you know the one, the one that made up all those laws. If you don't think anything worse can happen, it probably will.