- Big doings up here on The Mountain last weekend.
-
- It was Burl Jr. the New Caretaker's 23rd birthday, and
everyone gathered in the Annex for some whoop-de-do.
-
- We had Burl Jr., Tera (his Twin Flame), Burl Jr.'s parents
- Burl Sr. the All-Time Best Farmer in Paradise County and his wife, Margie
- and a couple dozen of Burl Jr.'s friends and cousins.
-
- Gwen the Beautiful and I were there, too, of course.
Gwen's contribution to the festivities was a chocolate layer cake with
a plastic Elvis on top of it in honor of Burl Jr.'s ambition to become
the next big Rock God.
-
- Burl Jr. sang and played the guitar. I joined in on drums.
Tera made like Linda McCartney on the keyboard. A good time was had by
all.
-
- Well, almost all.
-
- What Burl Sr. had was a problem.
-
- He spent almost the whole time on his cell phone. Listening
to someone who wouldn't stop talking. Toward the end of the celebration,
I found him sitting outside at a picnic table. A frowning Margie sat nearby.
-
- "I don't know, Bobby," Burl Sr. said into the
phone. "I just don't know." And he shut it with a sigh.
-
- "Well, I know," said Margie. "He ain't
staying with us, no matter how much he cries."
-
- Then she saw me, and her voice grew less harsh. "Larry
B's a man of the world. Tell him what's going on."
-
- Burl Sr. was uncomfortable. But he also needed to have
his say.
-
- "That was Bobby, my old high school best friend.
Fifty years ago, understand? We did everything together, him and me. But
after graduation, we took different roads."
-
- "Bobby was always restless," Margie went on.
"Paradise wasn't big enough for him. He had to go to the city. Be
a hotshot in Little Rock."
-
- "Little Rock didn't agree with Bobby," Burl
Sr. said. "He picked up and went west to Oklahoma City. Then Albuquerque.
Then some skiing place in Colorado. Made a lot of other stops in between.
-
- "No matter where he went and what job he got, Bobby
stayed restless. Every once in awhile he'd wake up, decide he hated his
life, and move on. Leavin' wives and kids and homes and bank accounts behind.
-
- "Bobby started with some promise," Burl Sr.
went on. "He was the smartest boy in school. His first job was managing
a Greyhound bus station. Twenty-five years ago, when he called me to shoot
the breeze, he was pumping septic tanks."
-
- "And this time? Tell Larry B about this time,"
Margie said.
-
- "Now he's calling from Springfield, Mo. Saying he
ain't worked in three years. He's got diabetes, and they just cut off one
of his legs. They're taking the other one next week. He's married again,
to an ol' gal who's been supporting them by working at the Waffle House.
She doesn't want to do it any more. She wants him out."
-
- Burl Sr. paused unhappily. Margie filled the gap. "Bobby's
calling because after he gets out of the hospital he'll be nothin' but
a homeless cripple, with no love and no money and no friends to coddle
him. He's lookin' for someplace to land."
-
- "Us taking him in would be the right thing to do,"
Burl Sr. said. "The charitable thing."
-
- "It'd also be the biggest chore I ever took on,"
said Margie. "Me taking care of a man I never even liked. Mr. 'I am
the Smartest' Bobby and his 'nuthin' here is good enough' ways!"
-
- She looked straight at me. "You're a man of the
world, Larry B. What would you do? Would you take him in?"
-
- I looked at the two of them. Thought about the consequences.
Saw the pain in the faces of Burl Sr. and Margie. Considered the pain Bobby,
who I don't know, had to be feeling as well.
-
- I thought about times when I'd been in their position,
and what I'd done and what I might've done instead. About what was right
in the eyes of the universe. And what was wrong when you had to live with
it in the world.
-
- And all I could say was, "I want to help you. I'd
love to help you. But I can't."
-
- "See?" Margie said. "Those're the words.
Those're the words you say to Bobby next time he calls!"
-
- That wasn't what I'd meant. Not at all.
-
- But as they say about the weather in these parts: "Guess
it'll have to do."
-
-
-
- Copyright C 2007 by Larry Brody. All rights reserved.
-
- Author Larry Brody's weekly column, LIVE! FROM PARADISE!
appears on his website, www.larrybrody.com. He has written thousands of
hours of network television, and is the author of "Television Writing
from the Inside Out" and "Turning Points in Television."
Brody is Creative Director of The Cloud Creek Institute for the Arts, the
world's first in-residence media colony. More about his activities can
be seen on www.tvwriter.com and www.cloudcreek.org. He welcomes your comments
and feedback at <mailto:LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org>LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org.
Brody, his wife and their dogs, cats, horses and chickens live in Marion
County, Arkansas. The other residents of the mythical town of Paradise
reside in his imagination.
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