Cosmic Brownies - 4
Why food, he wondered. Why when death is upon us do we go to our stomachs, he searched his mind for the answer as he returned to the mat. He knew it was the right thing to do, feeling the truth of it in the pit of his stomach. But why? Picturing a beam of white line descending from the heavens and encasing his physical being, he began the routine he had been taught ages ago, to connect with his higher self. As relaxation overtook him, his present state of conscious was amplified until he began to see images. Blurry at first, but becoming clearer and clearer as he sank deeper within himself.
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“Come on boy. It’s me and you to the rescue once a again,” said the old man dressed in the navy blue workmens’ uniform. His cap, which he wore proudly even with the grease stains, read O’Neil’s Auto Repair. He nudged the kid out the door, as they made their way to the company truck. The rickety contraption was an outdated Ford pickup truck. The kind with white stripes down the sides and big shiny chrome headlights. The nearly teen aged boy wondered if the thing might one day blow up in flames tragically ending his life. His concerns all seemed lost on the old man, as his gnarled hands throttled the key and he revved the gas petal. With a grin and a wink at the boy, he slammed the gear shift and off they putted down the busy city street.
“Now what all do we need from Robbins boy?” , the old man asked. “The radiator, fittings, and make sure it goes on the business account, so there’s no tax Gramps,” replied the young passenger. “Good. Good work Gabrielle. You’ll make a fine man some day son. Did I ever tell about the time Red Mullin’s let me use his shop to do some welding on yar Grandmothers car? Back before we had our own shop. Let’s see must have been twenty.. Nah.. Mae be forty years ago.”
The story being told was a favorite of the boys’ as they made their way on another adventure. Neither of them was worth a damn, his grandfather often joked. One to old to be of much use and the other to young. Together they made a great team. Gabrielle settled in to his familiar role as listener, soaking up the words being spoken.
The story ended just as they made it to the parking lot of the huge gray warehouse. Gramps had nearly died in an explosion of acetylene tanks, having been projected out the glass windows of the overhead door. As he finished his narration, he was quick to point out the scars he carried on his forearm with a chuckle. “Just remember boy, when you get to the end of your days, all you have left is your memories,” with a finger raised in the air to emphasis his point Gramps continued, “So live’em! Everyday is a gift from the old boy up above. Ya gotta take every opportunity you can, every trip, don’t be one of them like yar grandmother, to damn afraid to live. Be a go-getter and take advantage of everything you can son! In the end all you’ll have is your memories of what you did and if you’re lucky, what you can still eat!”
The door hinges squealed as the truck doors slammed shut. Making their way into Robbin’s Supply they were greeted by a man standing behind the counter. “Top a the morning to you son,” said Gramps excitedly strolling up to the counter. “How’s your dad Willy?”
“Good Morning Mr. O’Neil,” replied Willy, with a nod to the kid. “Dad’s doing great, wondering when you’re picking him up to go fishing again. Here for that radiator I take it, huh?” , he continued gesturing to the parts that leaned against the far wall.
Seeing them Gabrielle automatically made his way over and began to take them out to the truck, as the grown ups talked. Once they were secured in the truck and he had double checked his work, he made his way back in to retrieve his Gramps. After all Dad was waiting on this radiator to finish Mcloskies truck. And lord knew how Mcloskie bitched every time he came to the shop. Smiling to himself at his fathers’ words, he walked in to see Gramps and Willy still talking.
“Ja’get’er all loaded boy?” asked Gramps as he held out a small paper bag of candy. “Yup,” answered the boy while digging into the paper bag. Pulling out a piece of dark hard candy, he inspected it, not sure what it was. It smelled sort of like licorice. The sour look on his face as he sucked on it, caused the grown men to laugh. “What’s a matter you don’t like horehounds sunny?” asked Gramps. Shaking his head Gabrielle tossed the candy into the near by trash can and wiped his hands on his pants. “Did he tell ya to put it on the business account?” Gabrielle asked Willy. “Yes young squire,” replied Willy, handing the receipt to over to Gabrielle. “Those sure aren’t anything I’ll ever be thankful for Gramps,” said Gabrielle as he gestured to the paper bag of candy.
”Just remember boy, each man has his own treasures,” said Gramps tossing another piece of the horrible tasting candy into his mouth.
- Posted by JP Shaw at 09:59 pm
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