Page 21 - The Myth and the Moment

Morning

to think about them, was I? The old associative chain boomeranged
around the universe at light-speed and ended up where it started. I
can’t try not to remember what those two did to my work back in the
Stone Age. Haven’t thought about them for weeks, actually; ergo,
wasn’t trying to forget their shenanigans. Maybe they’re sitting up
there laughing at me: poor old Nate, look what a bum he’s become,
did you know he was a great poet and playwright back in the Fifties?
No! Honestly, Phil? Yeah, sure. I used to help him produce his stuff,
gave him lots of breaks, but he just couldn’t handle success.
Disappeared from the scene one day; first time I set eyes on him in
twenty years, would you believe that?
“Hey, mister: you better move your truck.”
“Eh?”
Kid crept up behind me!
“It’s sticking out into my driveway.”
His driveway?
No, not a midget, a real human child in a suit, white shirt, and tie.
“What?”
“Look!”
Back of the truck didn’t quite make it to the curb. No car in the
driveway. Probably could get around my bumper anyway.
“Yeah, I see it, kid. Do you see I have a flat tire?”
That stopped the little monster. Or did it? He’s coming back.
“Does that mean you can park in front of my driveway, mister?”
“It means I can’t move the truck until the tire is fixed.”
Maybe that will stop him: cold facts against legal theory.
“What if you never fix it?”
All right, kid. You asked for it.
“What if I never fix it? Now that’s a very interesting question,
young man. How do you propose to know if I never fix it? Do you
know when never is over? I hope so, because that’s when you can
decide what to do about my truck.”
How can he look so cool in that suit?
“I don’t have to know. I don’t even have to be here. I don’t even
have to decide.”
“Ah, now, that’s more reasonable. You have a grasp of reality far
beyond your years, my friend.”
“God will take care of you and your truck.”

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