The End of the World

Whenever someone does anything to me with a needle I make an effort to smile. This is because decades ago when I had a minor operation I was on the table and the doctor was about to administer the anesthetic when he moved his masked face close to mine and said with startling gruffness, why the grimace, kid? It's not like this is the end of the world. I had no idea I was grimacing. I had no idea that my fear appeared to others as anger. After that, whenever I had to get a shot or give blood I strove to smile before the needle pierced my skin and oh how the reviews changed; nurses would say aren't you the brave man and offer me a lollipop or compliment me on the clarity of my veins. The pain was still there I guess but the pain was just one part of the experience and not the most important part. 

This morning I had to give blood for the annual wellness check and just before the bee sting I smiled automatically but the nurse didn't say anything and kept on not saying anything as my blood unspooled and it hit me that like everyone else in the hospital I was wearing a mask and she couldn't tell what was happening with my face. In fact she was trying to keep her head as far back away from mine as possible in order to maintain the proper distance. The rules had changed. I could contort my face any way I liked and no one would be able to tell, no one would even care, but after living with this habit all these years the natural thing was for me to smile as though facing the end of the world. 

All the Rage

This summer fire is all the rage. Conditions are perfect for it: there's been no rain in weeks; the shift to teleworking has millions at their wit's end; Mars is closer to earth than it has been in 75 years. When someone got the idea to torch their garden it's no surprise that others took note and followed suit. In a matter of days gardens across the nation were burning. People who'd never handled mulch their entire lives were churning up their lawns to plant tomatoes and cucumbers for the express purpose of letting the plants burn when they achieve ripeness. In the meantime they burn old clothes, old toys, old anything. I'm one of those type-A sorts who worry that the flames will leap from earth to house and set whole communities ablaze but every night our well-dressed leaders are on the news assuring us that there is no need to worry as long as everyone exercises good judgment and carefully monitors their fires; everything is under control. They may be right. I haven't seen any houses burn to the ground. I haven't seen Mars either. But sometimes the sirens descend from the stars.       

Breakout Session

I was in the lobby with a group of people and we had to get to the airport where we would all go our separate ways. My plan was to walk to the station and take the train as the station wasn't far, maybe a half-hour hike at most. But I heard the people talking about taking a taxi and thought well there's no reason I can't join them. After all I came all the way to this strange city to do some networking, and a taxi would save time. So I went out with them to the street corner and stood waiting in the harsh morning light. A taxi zipped by and then another, showing no sign of slowing down or stopping for us. The taxis in this city had their own unique color patterns: some were all black, some all red, some red and black as though offspring of the red and black ones. After a few minutes I thought well I'll just go ahead and walk and while the people were staring into their devices I slipped away dragging my suitcase and flipping on my floppy hat for protection against the sun. Before I got to the first light I looked back to see that the street in front of the hotel was now crawling with taxis with tail lights flashing. One by one the taxis went down the ramp to the underground parking lot and the line of them went way back, stretching all the way down the street in the direction I was headed. The hotel must be the entrance to the colony, I reasoned. I couldn't see any of the people but imagined I might see one or two of them at the airport, where we'd be strangers again. 

Icebreaking

Once when I was vacuuming the hall 

I came upon a bit of blue lint lying

against the wall and I ran the power

head over it but it didn't disappear

on the first pass so I went over it

backwards, a technique known to

increase suction power, and this time

the lint vanished. I've been vacuum-

ing this house for years but as far

as I know I've never seen a bit of

lint exactly like that one and in 

the exact same place though lord

knows I keep looking for it. It was

dark blue, one might call it navy,

though you'd have been forgiven

for calling it black. I'm not sure

where the lint came from and why

I can't get myself to care about

any other bits of lint. I guess some

things in life only happen once,

like this little conversation we're 

having now. I'm trying really hard

to make it memorable. 

Shut Out

To be lying in bed well before

dawn unable to get back to

sleep, shut out of that dream 

zone where everything moves 

around you, is to know what

it's like to be seven again and

holding your mom's hand as

she points to a sign you've

never noticed before in front

of the play zone, the one with

the red tube slide that goes

around and around for hours,

explaining that this says

children under seven can't

play here and that means 

you so you'll just have to sit

at the table with the grown-ups

until they finish their coffee.

To Be a Heron

Herons do not experience adolescence.

They appear on this earth fully formed,

legs like iron rails and a beak capable

of splitting sandstone as they stand

ankle-deep waiting for a catfish or 

a snake to enter their strike zone. 

To be a heron means to never know 

self-doubt or the need to belong to 

any group. To be a heron is to gaze 

all day long at your own reflection 

in the mirror of the river and to see 

yourself as you always have been 

and always will be, and if a duck dares 

come near to hit them with a look as

withering as a summer drought. 

There may be baby herons hiding 

somewhere in the reeds, but I

for one have never seen one.  

     

Standing Water

For a while there we had the mosquitoes 

under control to the point where you could

keep your windows open at night without

worrying about losing a drop of blood but

we let our guard down and the standing

water proliferate and now the mosquitoes

are back with a vengeance but this time

no one's talking about striking the source

and out come the sprays and pungent 

patches and other stuff that does not

work as we wave our sparklers in

the darkness making patterns that 

linger like memories of better days.    

Invasive Species

You hear the shots and see a man

standing at the edge of a rice field

shooting skeet though as you get

closer you see those are not clay

pigeons but painted turtles, filling

you with horror until you realize

that these irrigation ditches are 

grossly overpopulated with this

particular turtle, the Mississippi 

slider (Trachemys scripta), which

was brought into the country as

pets because they're so darned

cute when their shell is the size

of a quarter but they possess

a voracious appetite and grow

fast so people let them go into

this network of canals where

they spread like a virus in an 

immunocompromised host,

choking out the more docile

musk turtles indigenous to

this region. Still, this is cruel

and you would say something

if the guy actually hit one but

he keeps missing and the turtles 

spin over the flooded fields 

coming down in the distance 

as you keep the time: one 

Mississippi, two Mississippi, 

three Mississippi...  

Generation Gap

The ride I was on had a critical

malfunction and I was plummeting

to my death when a park employee

with a megaphone shouted at me

to hold up my arms and I thought

you have got to be kidding but he

said it again with greater urgency--

hold up your arms!--so I did just 

as he said and wouldn't you know 

the safety bar went up with a snap

and the ride slowed to a crawl so 

I was no longer falling to my doom 

but floating down to the platform

as though in a hot air balloon that

had just traversed the Sahara but

the guy on the platform, a college

kid maybe, was standing there with 

his arms crossed and I thought oh

great, here comes the lecture.

Talking Heads

Another Saturday and all we could expect

was rain so we got in the car and drove out

to a museum that just opened on Route 13.

It was called the Head Museum and it was

supposed to be good family fun. You go in

and find yourself in a room where every

inch of the walls from floor to ceiling is

covered with the heads of action figures

and dolls: there's the Hulk; there's Snake

Eyes; there's the many shades of Barbie.

In another room are the hydraulic heads

of extinct animals; the moa looks fearsome

but is actually herbivorous; an alligator

and crocodile from the Late Cretaceous 

bellow at each other and go into a death

roll before backing off and closing their 

mouths with a hiss. You have to push

the button to see it all again. (My son

was in that room for a while.) We didn't

go into the Killing Fields room because

of the warning sign, but I snuck a peak

and saw Pol Pot's head turning away

as the skulls begin to pile up. Creepiest

of all is a room where your own body

seems to melt away and you see yourself 

and your loved ones as just heads

suspended above the floor with bulging

eyes and mouths that open and close

like the animatronic exhibits elsewhere.

It's hard to shake that feeling even when

you're back in the car driving through 

the rain struggling to find something

to say about the experience. 

  

     

Life Support

That tiny musk turtle we found

floating down the ditch after days

of rain isn't doing anything but sit

on its slab all day peering at its

surroundings like a miniscule

muppet. We can't get it to swim;

it has no interest in the pellets

drifting in the filter flow which 

the label says were specially

made with its shell growth in

mind. It seems to have given

up, maybe before we even 

caught it. But my son has not.

He wants to call an ambulance,

to send the turtle to the hospital

where they can hook it up to an

IV and restore the vigor that 

turtles with nickel-sized shells

are supposed to possess. I have 

no idea how they would find 

a vein, but I'm no rescue worker. 

My son is figuring that out. 

The Optimist

My wife has no recollection

of removing her rings late

last night while navigating

the world wide web but

apparently she did because

this morning her fingers 

were bare and after a bit

of commotion she found

the wedding ring wedged

in her planner but as one

might expect the engage-

ment ring was more elusive

and she is still looking for 

it, optimistic in her way

that things will work out

with or without my help.

Independence Day

As the Pacific War came to an end

an aircraft carrier struck by torpedoes

split in half and sank with a boil and

suddenly all the planes had no target

nowhere to go but up into the clouds

where they stayed for decades slowly

getting smaller and when it seemed

safe to venture back down to earth

they were the size of mosquitoes,

smaller even, safe from the radar

and cannons and the uniformed men

who'd ordered them to drive their tiny

bombs straight into the enemy's face

with a scream that now only a bat

would be able to hear. 

Faces in the Crowd

A man came saying they were looking 

for extras to play the parents of Jedi

in an upcoming Star Wars film. Word

spread quickly thanks to social media

and soon a crowd had gathered on

the lawn outside a public park. Some

picked up sticks and practiced their

light saber skills. Others did squats 

and stretches to ready for acrobatics.

The man knew there would be no such

scenes in the film. These people would

not be Jedi. They would be the parents

of Jedi. They would appear only in non-

speaking roles, in flashbacks: setting

the table with a stern look as a young

hero plays with his action figures;

lost in a novel as a young heroine

learns she can levitate the furniture.

And the scenes would almost certainly

be cut from the film to enhance

the protagonists' air of mystery. 

He looked through the crowd for

people who already seemed to know

this. They were not hard to find.  

 

Rewilding

Three months without students and we're

starting to see changes around campus.

For one, grass has grown all over the place,

filling in the footpaths and parking lots

and even the courtyard where on sunnier

days students would sit and study and

sometimes protest. The grass has attracted

grazing animals, which look a lot like cows

except they are small, standing no taller

than the average dad's waist. The grazing

animals in turn have attracted predators:

birds of prey with fearsome beaks and 

wingspans as wide as the space between

goalposts. They light on the vine-draped

buildings scanning the herds for signs

of the weak or aged, swooping down to

snatch a cow in its talons and carry it

back to its perch as the cow screams 

in a disturbingly human fashion. 

This is how nature maintains balance,

you tell yourself. If not for the predators

the cows would breed out of control, 

eating all the grass until they starved

and leaving the campus as barren as

the screens of our sleeping computers.

    

 

Working Late

The reason the tooth fairy left your tooth

under your pillow without leaving a coin

is because yesterday two great white sharks

collided head-on off the coast of Brisbane

and each one lost all its teeth and of course

this falls under the tooth fairy's jurisidiction

so she had to go there not to give the sharks

coins since what use would a shark have for

hard currency but to collect all the fallen

teeth and take them back to her lab where

the challenging part was to sort out which

tooth belonged to which shark since they 

were about the same size but the tooth fairy

takes great pride in her work and sometimes

gets lost in it and I guess she just missed

the tiny light on the wall map indicating

your tooth but by now she must be aware

of it so why don't we try the same thing 

tonight? I promise it won't happen again.