Wheelbarrow. (Blogging Lounge #2)



The dust flew up Kari maneuvered the ancient bus down the road. It had been so long since she had been to the farm, not since her Grandmother passed away.  One of her cousins ran it now, she couldn't remember which one.  All she remembered from her few trips out when she was a kid is nothing happened and it was very, very green, like the pot Charlie Cramps used to bring to the bar.

A strange feeling came over her as she came closer to the old gate. A joint would help calm me down, she thought. She wasn't sure why she had been summoned out here.  Something about distributing the estate of her father.  The farm belonged to that side of the family.  The family her mother so often tried to hide from.  The only thing she had from any of them was the silver brush with the Cherokee Rose inlaid into the head. The silver had burnished to mach her own color, almost as if it had chosen her for its steward.

Indeed, the brush was an object with its own spirit.  One that had sustained her many times in her life.  Those times when Mama was drunk and she was high and the clashes and recrimination flew the the tiny railroad shack. Each woman laying the blame for their shortcomings on the other. Over time, Kari realized that was futile. In her bar tending days, she would avoid the conflict by crashing at various friends' houses, sometimes for exchange of sex or house cleaning. It didn't matter to her.

As she drove , she noticed the old wheelbarrow.  The one Grandpa had built in the workshop. Someone said he could build anything. He had died when she was so little,she didn't have an image in her memory.  Only of Grandma.  They had never approved of Mama. They had been from different worlds.  Mama never knew hard work and sneered at those who performed it. Whereas Grandma was always about the farm and work. It didn't matter in the end. Daddy took off and left with nothing but the unending hatred of Mama. But none of that mattered. 

Someone had filled the old thing with a hydrangea big enough to almost cover it. Like Daddy's family, covering the splits and faults built up over time.  Kari pulled into the last space on the drive. 

Maybe now she could get some answers.

And some peace of mind.

Comments

  1. k~January 27, 2014 at 9:04 PM

    Nicely done Christopher. You took that wheelbarrow quite the distance. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Another Government EmployeeJanuary 27, 2014 at 9:42 PM

      Thanks. I had been playing with different things for Kari and this seemed to work.

      Delete
  2. JoJanuary 27, 2014 at 11:10 PM

    That Kari took you to a good place! Answers...yes.

    ReplyDelete
  3. sueJanuary 28, 2014 at 12:25 AM

    You and Steven were n a similar wave length

    ReplyDelete
  4. StevenJanuary 28, 2014 at 5:10 PM

    "Covering the splits and faults built up over time." Very nice.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Tyler MyrthJanuary 29, 2014 at 6:43 AM

    Somehow we all come back to our roots

    ReplyDelete
  6. Brenda StevensFebruary 7, 2014 at 6:43 AM

    aww why are these making me tear up?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In Honor of Al Jaffee

The image below is probably the most politically incorrect graphic the great comic artist Al Jaffee ever produced. Originally published in a special issue of MAD magazine in 1971, it brought protests for its seeming disrespectful tone. It even launched a brief FBI investigation into possible political subversion.  So, why am I bringing it up? 2 reasons. First, Mr. Jaffee just celebrated his 95th birthday. Second, In all of the turmoil of the Election, it is important that the pledge be for all people. Not just the moneyed elite. More importantly, to weed out infection the poisons of bigotry by all people need to be aired. Burying thoughts and ideas through euphemisms and language discussion allow the opinions to fester. The quote "Just because you silence a man does not mean you convert him" very much applies. Donald Trump has made efforts to silence his critics. His critics have made a double effort to silence. him. And nothing gets done.
Read more

The Date (Blogophilia 13.5)

So, here she was at Manuel’s, her usual fifteen minutes early.   A quick glance to make sure the lipstick line was still straight.   Satisfied, the compact disappeared into the leather purse.   Kari hadn’t been this nervous meeting anyone in quite a long time.   But then, it had been at least 20 years since she had been on a blind date.   What will he look like?   All Mary told her was he was a bachelor with a paying job and no kids.    Nothing about how old, or whether he was a slob or a crackhead.   Not even the guy’s name.   Only that she thought Kari would enjoy his company.     Just be at there at 5:30. Sipping on her gimlet, it seemed like she had never left.   The Musak was mostly Sinatra and the political types still hung to their tables like they were still in high school.   Tony, the manager, gave her a peck when he saw her and said she could come back to work any time.   No.   She’d had enough of slinging swill and dealing with the obnoxious, of stepping over the hoo
Read more