Reading Corner
The Other Thing
(from The White Doors )
And then there was this other thing we didn’t know what to call. It sort of had hair but it didn’t and the hair was sort of on its head but it wasn’t. Because the head was not really a head. It was on top of its body but it could have been a foot for all we knew. Except for the hair. “What do we call it?” I said.
“Beats me,” Jasper said. “It looks sort of like something but I really can’t say what.”
Me neither,” I said. “It sort of reminds me of something but then again it doesn’t. Do you think it’s alive?”
It might be,” Jasper said, “at least I think it might be. It’s hard to tell.”
How long are we going to watch it?” I said.
How long do you think?” he said.
Well, I could watch it an hour and you could watch it an hour and I could watch it an hour and so on and so forth until we find out what it is. How’s that?”
That’s good enough,” Jasper said. “You watch it first.”
So I watched it first. I sat on the rock just above it and kept my eyes right on its head—or right on it foot, if that’s what it was. I kept watching it and watching it but it never moved. At least I don’t think it did. If it did I didn’t see it. Then Jasper came and watched it and I went and had some beans. Then Jasper came back and I went to watch it again. This time I watched it even closer. I watched it till my eyes watered. I watched it till my vision blurred and I bent over to rub my eyes.
When I looked up the thing had moved. Its head was where its foot had been, or vice versa. I could tell it in an instant. And it might have moved some across the ground. I could have sworn that it had. I got down off the rock and looked at the sand. Sure enough, there was a smooth place on the sand where the thing had scooted along—not a lot, but some. I could tell it.
It moved!” I hollered over at Jasper and Jasper came running and we looked at it and looked at it. But it didn’t budge while we were looking. “It moved,” I said.
Are you sure it moved"?” he said.
I’m telling you it moved,” I said. “I was rubbing my eyes and when I looked up it had moved. I could tell.”
Well, it’s my turn to watch it,” Jasper said, and I went to get me some more beans. I ate one mouthful and then another, and then just as I raised the spoon, Jasper came running, arms flailing. “It moved!” he was screaming. “You were right, it moved! I was looking right at it and it stuck out something or other and pulled itself along on the sand. I’m telling you it moved!”
So I dropped my beans and went running back with him and the thing was just sitting there, not moving. It looked to me like it hadn’t moved.
You sure it moved?” I said.
I swear to you it moved,” he said. “It stuck something out of its side and pulled itself along the sand. I saw it with my own eyes.”
Well, we both better watch it this time,” I said. “I’ll sit on the rock and . . .” But there wasn’t any rock. “What did you do with the rock?” I said.
What rock?” he said.
The rock that was right here above it,” I said.
I didn’t touch any rock,” he said.
Somebody did,” I said.
What’s wrong with that rock over there?” he said.
I looked at where he was pointing. “That’s the rock!” I said. “That’s the rock! I’m telling you that’s the rock!”
What rock?” he said.
The rock I was sitting on when I watched it the first time.”
I took ten steps over to the rock. “That thing’s moved all the way over to there,” I said. “I’m telling you when I first started watching it, it was over here under this rock.”
I was getting chills up my back and Jasper looked like he was too. “I told you the thing moved,” he said.
I told you it did too,” I said.
Jasper went and grabbed a dead tree limb and drew back like he was going to kill it.
Don’t even think about it,” I said, and yanked the limb out of his hands.
What do you mean?” he said. “That thing’s alive!”
I know it’s alive,” I said. “That’s why you can’t kill it.”
Well, I’m outa here then,” he said. “I’m not staying here with that thing alive. We don’t even know what it is.”
Well, I’m not leaving,” I said.
I sat down right next to the thing and watched Jasper go and start gathering up his gear.
You’re crazy for staying here,” he said. “It’ll be dark in an hour.”
You’re just chicken,” I said.
He threw his pack on his back and started walking up the hill.
You’re just chicken!” I yelled, but he didn’t even turn.
Then he was gone and I just sat there, not knowing what else to do. And even if I knew what else, I wasn’t about to do it. I sat there till my butt ached, but I was not going to budge. It got so quiet I could hear the beans working.
Proverb #154
(from The Appalaches)
Most folks live by pretense; only the very few are who they are.
Song To Myself
(from The Mad Reverend)
In this year of the dull eyes,
in this century of the dull eyes
and these dog nights and winters
in this befuddlement and dusk
in this way of no turning
wherein all discourse barks
and all reason is frayed,
do not think that of all books written
there shall be one, or even half a one.
Do not think that it matters
or that the earth much cares.
Stack them on a shelf and leave them there,
unread, undusted.
Go out to feed the birds,
tell the cardinal from the oriole,
the black-eyed susan from the sunflower.
Pee off the porch and say:
this is the good life, the good enough life,
when old dogs are not dead
but only asleep in the sun,
when doves wait for your rising,
when the sparrow on the branch
knows neither what it is nor why
but that it is and that you are
and that God is good.
Let the rain do what it did
when you were three, or forty-three,
at the edge of a tin roof, wide-eyed and believing,
let it rain and rain and rain.
Don’t care anything.
Don’t buy what anyone thinks or does.