Poem: "Why People Hold onto Memories"
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ysabetwordsmithThis poem was written outside the regular prompt calls. It was sponsored by a pool with fuzzyred. It belongs to the Rutledge thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
"Why People Hold onto Memories"
[Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
At six o'clock, Oscar and Labib
closed their temporary office.
Sunrise Strip Mall had
a good location and included
the Sunrise Day Care on one end,
two stores, and an office plant service.
The wide end held an office block now
rented by the Business Incubator.
"Would you like to share supper?"
Labib asked on the way out.
Mandy's Diner had hired
a new Syrian cook to expand
their halal menu. Now they
had a nasty yogurt drink and
a mint lemonade that Oscar loved,
a weird cake and rice pudding, and
some ridiculous stuffed zucchini.
There were all kinds of new kebabs,
of which he adored the cherry one.
Who put cherries in what was
basically a long skinny meatball?
But it was beyond delicious.
"I'd love to," Oscar said
as they stepped outside.
The sun was sliding down
the western sky and shadows
were already deepening under
the trees, but sunset itself
was still hours away.
Oscar had just finished
locking the outer door when
something went whump.
A weight slammed into him,
knocking him to the ground.
Labib pressed himself tighter
on top of Oscar, mashing
him into the concrete and
yelling something in Arabic.
A loud CRACK sounded nearby.
Oscar looked up and glimpsed
a couple of teenaged boys
running between the cars.
"Stay down!" Labib barked,
shoving his head flat. "Wait
for the shelling to stop."
"What the fuck, dude?"
Oscar said. "It's just
some dumb kids lighting
fireworks in the parking lot."
"F-fireworks?" Labib said.
"Yeah, they shouldn't be doing
that, but it happens," Oscar said.
"Usually they do it in the park and I
yell at them for the fire risk. They may
have thought pavement was safer."
Finally Labib slumped off him.
"Why do it at all?" he said.
"Well, it's July," Oscar said
as he sat up and looked around.
The culprits were long gone, though.
"Fireworks are traditional then."
"I thought -- I thought that was
later this week," Labib said,
counting on his fingers.
"Did I lose the days?"
"Nah, it's only the first.
The fourth isn't until Friday,"
Oscar said. "Some people
just like to get an early start."
Labib rubbed shaking hands
over his face. "It sounded
like a bomb," he said.
"Well, yeah," said Oscar.
"They're related. That's why
folks aren't supposed to light more
than little stuff inside city limits, and
not just any time. The rules aren't
strictly enforced, though, because it's
rarely worse than kids goofing off and
nobody wants to be a hardass."
"So this, it's not just today, it's
going to keep up all week?"
Labib's voice cracked.
"Are you -- no, you don't
look okay," Oscar said,
frowning. "What's wrong?"
"Damascus," Labib admitted.
"When the bombing started, I
used all the connections I had
to get my family out of the country.
It worked, but ... now I have no one
outside my wife and children. That's
hard, and loud noises sometimes
remind me of the unrest there."
"Shit," Oscar said with feeling.
"Let's go back inside for a bit."
He offered Labib a hand up.
The older man was shaken
and wobbly, so Oscar kept
a discreet hand behind him
as they slipped into the office.
"Splash some water on your face,
maybe it'll help," Oscar suggested.
"But you're the one who's bleeding,"
Labib said, waving at his face.
Startled, Oscar touched his mouth,
and yeah, now he was actually
paying attention, that stung.
He went into the bathroom
and looked in the mirror.
He must have bitten his lip
when he hit the ground.
There was a raw spot on
his chin, too, but at least
his beard hid most of that.
Oscar grabbed the bottle of
Refresh nonalcoholic mouthwash
and rinsed his mouth until his lip
finally stopped oozing blood.
Then he dabbed antiseptic
over his chin. Nothing more
to do about that, because
a bandage wouldn't stick
and damned if he was going
to shave a spot so it would.
"All done," Oscar said when
he came out. "Your turn."
Labib disappeared inside
the bathroom without a word.
The rhythmic swishing of water
told Oscar that he was making wudu.
He'd already done the afternoon prayer,
and it was nowhere near sunset, so
it must be just for the comfort.
Oscar went into the breakroom
and started the hot water for
a batch of Syrian herbal tea.
It was mostly made from
flower petals, not tea leaves,
but it looked pretty and smelled nice
and sure worked to settle nerves.
When Labib came out of the bathroom,
he made a beeline for the coffee station,
and Oscar pressed a teacup into his hands.
"Feeling better now?" Oscar asked.
"A little," Labib said. "I must apologize
for knocking you down. I was a fool."
"It's okay," Oscar said. "You were
just trying to keep me safe. If it
had been a real bomb ..."
Then Labib would have
taken the shrapnel instead
of Oscar. It made him shiver.
"It wasn't. I should have remembered
that this is America and there are
no bombers here," Labib said.
"Just numbskulls who couldn't
wait three days for fireworks,"
Oscar said, shaking his head.
"It's the thought that counts."
"All right," Labib said, clutching
his tea like a life preserver.
Oscar poured himself a cup
and took a sip. It was weird,
but it was growing on him.
"Will you be okay?" Oscar said.
"You haven't seemed so, uh,
jumpy before this. I'm worried."
"Most of the time, I'm not jumpy. I
was lucky; I got my family out in time,"
Labib said. "It was just so loud and
so close -- if that had been real, it
could have dropped a building on us."
"Scary thought," Oscar said quietly.
"If I had memories like that, I'd
probably be a lot jumpier."
"I think the only reason why
people hold onto memories
is because memories are
the only things that don't
change when everyone else
does," Labib whispered.
Oscar thought about
all his relatives who had
moved away over the years.
"Yeah, I get that," he said.
"Everyone needs something
to hold onto, so that you don't
wind up drifting through life."
"I am adrift now, though,"
Labib said glumly. "Everyone
but my family I had to leave
behind -- friends, neighbors,
men I knew from the mosque."
Then he lifted his chin. "But I
am lucky. Most others were not."
Oscar's stomach took a sudden trip
to his toes. "Oh, shit," he said.
"What?" Labib asked.
"If most other Syrians had it
worse than you, how will they
react to fireworks?" Oscar said.
"I think this problem is bigger
than just you knocking me down."
Labib muttered something in Arabic
that probably meant Oh, shit.
"Will you be okay for a little while?"
Oscar said. "I want to call the mayor,
and somebody should probably
give Mr. Khaled a heads up too."
"Go, make your call," Labib said,
waving him all. "I'll tell Ibrahim."
So Oscar returned to his office
and shut the door. With luck,
Theodore would still be at work.
Predictably, he got some secretary
who tried to fob him off instead of
actually putting him through.
"The mayor is very busy,"
she said. "Is this an emergency?"
"It's urgent," Oscar said. "I'm
trying to keep it from becoming
an emergency. So unless he's in
the can, put him on the damn phone!"
She gave an outraged sniff, but
at least she made the connection.
"Oscar, what's wrong?" Theodore
sounded distinctly worried. "I know
you wouldn't get fussed over nothing."
"Some idiot kids lit a loud firework in
the parking lot, and Labib thought it
was a bomb. He knocked me down
and tried to cover me," Oscar said.
"We need to quash the fireworks
outside the Fourth of July, at least
for this year -- maybe a few years."
"That won't be easy," Theodore said.
"You know how frisky people get,
just from chasing them in the parks."
Oscar sighed. "I think that's actually
why they chose the parking lot," he said.
"We have to do something, though,
before anyone really gets hurt."
"Are you all right?" Theodore said.
"Your voice sounds a bit odd."
"It's nothing," Oscar said. "I bit
my lip when I hit the ground, is all.
What worries me is that Labib isn't
usually jumpy, and he freaked.
If one unexpected firecracker can
do that to him, what's it going to do
to the rest of them, all week long?"
"Nothing good," Theodore said.
"All right, we'll need to arrange
an announcement. I can talk
with the Fire Department and
Public Health, if you'll handle
Parks and Recreation."
"That I can do," Oscar said,
grateful to have something
actually in his wheelhouse.
"Somebody needs to reach out
to Ibrahim," said Theodore. "He's
the one people will turn to in panic
if they believe they're being bombed."
"I think Labib is on it, or will be,"
Oscar said. "He's shaken,
but he should snap out of it
and work on solutions."
"Speaking of which, how
do you plan to handle all of
the inevitable violations?"
Theodore said. "People are
used to getting away with this,
even though they know they
shouldn't be doing it."
Oscar thought about that.
He really didn't want to involve
the cops, who'd be busy enough
with extra drunk-and-disorderly calls.
He needed more than a warning ticket,
though, or kids wouldn't take it seriously.
"Community classes," Oscar decided.
"Choice of EFA or PTSD support, and
Syrian culture or Syrian civil war.
Add fire safety if necessary."
"That sounds like a good start,"
said Theodore. "What about
repeat offenders, though?"
"First offense, two classes,
one emotional, one cultural,"
Oscar said. "Second offense,
the other two classes plus
fire safety if they didn't
do that one already."
"And save the cops for
the third," Theodore added.
"That'll work. Not many kids
will want to risk more classes
in the middle of summer."
Oscar laughed. "Well, I
sure as hell wouldn't have."
"Speaking of kids, though, are
those classes right for them?"
Theodore wondered.
"College kids or teens
are most of the ones who
light fireworks, and they'll do
fine in adult classes," Oscar said.
"Younger ones, make their parents
take the classes, and give the kids
an age-appropriate talk about
not scaring the skin off people."
"That sounds like a good plan,"
Theodore said. "You're really
getting good at this, Oscar."
"I don't know what the heck we're
going to do about the Fourth itself,
though," said Oscar. "It's not fair
to ask people to give up fireworks."
"Open a bigger shelter," Theodore said.
"Every year the veterans and some folks
with sensory issues get together and throw
basement parties where the sound and smell
don't carry. If they run out of room, I open
an underground storm shelter for them."
"Oh, that's a great idea," Oscar said.
"When one of my cousins was little,
he was so scared of fireworks that
he'd wet himself, so we used to go
downstairs and show home movies
instead of going to the fairgrounds."
"That would work," Theodore said.
"We could throw an Americana Party.
Show our new neighbors what else
we do for the Fourth besides fireworks."
"Picnics. Parades. Party games.
Family photos. Telling stories.
Red, white, and blue food -- hell,
red, white, and blue everything,"
Oscar said with a laugh.
"Come to that, I think that
the veterans already bought
a gross of T-shirts tie-dyed
in red, white, and blue to
give away," Theodore said.
"The Vermont clothes were
a hit," Oscar said, nodding.
"So your cousin -- did he
ever get used to fireworks?"
Theodore asked him.
"Yeah, my uncle bought
pea-sized poppers to play with,
and the girls made fake fireworks
with flower petals. My mom cooked
maple pecan popcorn for the movies."
Oscar said. "Four years later, Jake
set the yard on fire with Black Cats."
"Well, we'll try to avoid that part,"
Theodore said dryly. "The rest
of it sounds very promising."
Oscar hadn't thought about
any of this in years -- so many
of his relatives had moved away --
but they were happy memories.
He could pull together the same kind
of party now, he felt sure of it.
Maybe it would help Labib
and the other Syrians.
"I've got enough ideas
to start with," Oscar said.
"Good, then let's get on it,"
Theodore said. "I'll call you
tomorrow to touch base on
whatever progress we've made.
Thank you for bringing this
to my attention, Oscar."
"You're welcome,"
Oscar said, and
wrapped up the call.
When he went back to
the breakroom, Labib was
still talking on his phone
in Arabic, but quickly
said his goodbyes.
"Oh, your face," he said.
"It's coming up bruises!"
"Don't worry about it,"
Oscar said. "I've hurt
myself worse than this
every time I wipe out on
the slopes. What's up?"
"I have warned Ibrahim
about the fireworks this week,"
Labib said. "He thinks his sons
may find them upsetting too,
but we have some ideas for
coping with the challenges."
"Great, because Theodore and
I came up with a few things too,"
Oscar said. "We'll do what we can
to discourage out-of-bounds fireworks,
but we also thought of ways to make
the holiday more comfortable for you
and yours. It's not a new problem."
"I suppose not," Labib said. "It just
feels very conspicuous, sometimes."
"Nah, we have veterans who feel
the same way. Plus I have a cousin
who was scared of fireworks as a boy.
I think I'll call him up and invite him
to come for a visit," Oscar said. "I've
got room for Jake and his family
to stay with me in the cabin."
"That's kind of you," said Labib.
"I'm thinking basement parties,
introduce folks to traditions for
the Fourth of July that don't
involve blowing things up,"
Oscar said. "Movies, games,
maple and pecan popcorn,
red, white, and blue everything."
"It sounds nice," Labib said.
"Do you have a basement?"
"Yeah, but mine's a walkout
so it won't work. We need one
all underground to block the noise,"
Oscar said. "I'll ask around, but
the mayor already offered to open
a storm shelter if we need one."
"Not everyone might feel
comfortable in something that
looks like a bunker," Labib said.
"So we sort 'em out and send
those folks to a private home
if they need to hide from fireworks,"
Oscar said. "We can make it work."
"I do believe we can," Labib said.
He was almost smiling now.
"Come on, let's head over to
Mandy's Diner," said Oscar.
"At least let me buy you supper
to make up for my town's screwup.
We can talk about party planning
and EFA over delicious food."
Labib chuckled. "I am glad
that you like our food," he said.
"That Kardal is a real whiz at
the grill, and as a wilderneer I
do not say that lightly," Oscar said.
"Then it is good that we could bring
such joy to your town," Labib said.
"Yeah," Oscar said. "It really is."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
fuzzyred. It belongs to the Rutledge thread of the Polychrome Heroics series. "Why People Hold onto Memories"
[Tuesday, July 1, 2014]
At six o'clock, Oscar and Labib
closed their temporary office.
Sunrise Strip Mall had
a good location and included
the Sunrise Day Care on one end,
two stores, and an office plant service.
The wide end held an office block now
rented by the Business Incubator.
"Would you like to share supper?"
Labib asked on the way out.
Mandy's Diner had hired
a new Syrian cook to expand
their halal menu. Now they
had a nasty yogurt drink and
a mint lemonade that Oscar loved,
a weird cake and rice pudding, and
some ridiculous stuffed zucchini.
There were all kinds of new kebabs,
of which he adored the cherry one.
Who put cherries in what was
basically a long skinny meatball?
But it was beyond delicious.
"I'd love to," Oscar said
as they stepped outside.
The sun was sliding down
the western sky and shadows
were already deepening under
the trees, but sunset itself
was still hours away.
Oscar had just finished
locking the outer door when
something went whump.
A weight slammed into him,
knocking him to the ground.
Labib pressed himself tighter
on top of Oscar, mashing
him into the concrete and
yelling something in Arabic.
A loud CRACK sounded nearby.
Oscar looked up and glimpsed
a couple of teenaged boys
running between the cars.
"Stay down!" Labib barked,
shoving his head flat. "Wait
for the shelling to stop."
"What the fuck, dude?"
Oscar said. "It's just
some dumb kids lighting
fireworks in the parking lot."
"F-fireworks?" Labib said.
"Yeah, they shouldn't be doing
that, but it happens," Oscar said.
"Usually they do it in the park and I
yell at them for the fire risk. They may
have thought pavement was safer."
Finally Labib slumped off him.
"Why do it at all?" he said.
"Well, it's July," Oscar said
as he sat up and looked around.
The culprits were long gone, though.
"Fireworks are traditional then."
"I thought -- I thought that was
later this week," Labib said,
counting on his fingers.
"Did I lose the days?"
"Nah, it's only the first.
The fourth isn't until Friday,"
Oscar said. "Some people
just like to get an early start."
Labib rubbed shaking hands
over his face. "It sounded
like a bomb," he said.
"Well, yeah," said Oscar.
"They're related. That's why
folks aren't supposed to light more
than little stuff inside city limits, and
not just any time. The rules aren't
strictly enforced, though, because it's
rarely worse than kids goofing off and
nobody wants to be a hardass."
"So this, it's not just today, it's
going to keep up all week?"
Labib's voice cracked.
"Are you -- no, you don't
look okay," Oscar said,
frowning. "What's wrong?"
"Damascus," Labib admitted.
"When the bombing started, I
used all the connections I had
to get my family out of the country.
It worked, but ... now I have no one
outside my wife and children. That's
hard, and loud noises sometimes
remind me of the unrest there."
"Shit," Oscar said with feeling.
"Let's go back inside for a bit."
He offered Labib a hand up.
The older man was shaken
and wobbly, so Oscar kept
a discreet hand behind him
as they slipped into the office.
"Splash some water on your face,
maybe it'll help," Oscar suggested.
"But you're the one who's bleeding,"
Labib said, waving at his face.
Startled, Oscar touched his mouth,
and yeah, now he was actually
paying attention, that stung.
He went into the bathroom
and looked in the mirror.
He must have bitten his lip
when he hit the ground.
There was a raw spot on
his chin, too, but at least
his beard hid most of that.
Oscar grabbed the bottle of
Refresh nonalcoholic mouthwash
and rinsed his mouth until his lip
finally stopped oozing blood.
Then he dabbed antiseptic
over his chin. Nothing more
to do about that, because
a bandage wouldn't stick
and damned if he was going
to shave a spot so it would.
"All done," Oscar said when
he came out. "Your turn."
Labib disappeared inside
the bathroom without a word.
The rhythmic swishing of water
told Oscar that he was making wudu.
He'd already done the afternoon prayer,
and it was nowhere near sunset, so
it must be just for the comfort.
Oscar went into the breakroom
and started the hot water for
a batch of Syrian herbal tea.
It was mostly made from
flower petals, not tea leaves,
but it looked pretty and smelled nice
and sure worked to settle nerves.
When Labib came out of the bathroom,
he made a beeline for the coffee station,
and Oscar pressed a teacup into his hands.
"Feeling better now?" Oscar asked.
"A little," Labib said. "I must apologize
for knocking you down. I was a fool."
"It's okay," Oscar said. "You were
just trying to keep me safe. If it
had been a real bomb ..."
Then Labib would have
taken the shrapnel instead
of Oscar. It made him shiver.
"It wasn't. I should have remembered
that this is America and there are
no bombers here," Labib said.
"Just numbskulls who couldn't
wait three days for fireworks,"
Oscar said, shaking his head.
"It's the thought that counts."
"All right," Labib said, clutching
his tea like a life preserver.
Oscar poured himself a cup
and took a sip. It was weird,
but it was growing on him.
"Will you be okay?" Oscar said.
"You haven't seemed so, uh,
jumpy before this. I'm worried."
"Most of the time, I'm not jumpy. I
was lucky; I got my family out in time,"
Labib said. "It was just so loud and
so close -- if that had been real, it
could have dropped a building on us."
"Scary thought," Oscar said quietly.
"If I had memories like that, I'd
probably be a lot jumpier."
"I think the only reason why
people hold onto memories
is because memories are
the only things that don't
change when everyone else
does," Labib whispered.
Oscar thought about
all his relatives who had
moved away over the years.
"Yeah, I get that," he said.
"Everyone needs something
to hold onto, so that you don't
wind up drifting through life."
"I am adrift now, though,"
Labib said glumly. "Everyone
but my family I had to leave
behind -- friends, neighbors,
men I knew from the mosque."
Then he lifted his chin. "But I
am lucky. Most others were not."
Oscar's stomach took a sudden trip
to his toes. "Oh, shit," he said.
"What?" Labib asked.
"If most other Syrians had it
worse than you, how will they
react to fireworks?" Oscar said.
"I think this problem is bigger
than just you knocking me down."
Labib muttered something in Arabic
that probably meant Oh, shit.
"Will you be okay for a little while?"
Oscar said. "I want to call the mayor,
and somebody should probably
give Mr. Khaled a heads up too."
"Go, make your call," Labib said,
waving him all. "I'll tell Ibrahim."
So Oscar returned to his office
and shut the door. With luck,
Theodore would still be at work.
Predictably, he got some secretary
who tried to fob him off instead of
actually putting him through.
"The mayor is very busy,"
she said. "Is this an emergency?"
"It's urgent," Oscar said. "I'm
trying to keep it from becoming
an emergency. So unless he's in
the can, put him on the damn phone!"
She gave an outraged sniff, but
at least she made the connection.
"Oscar, what's wrong?" Theodore
sounded distinctly worried. "I know
you wouldn't get fussed over nothing."
"Some idiot kids lit a loud firework in
the parking lot, and Labib thought it
was a bomb. He knocked me down
and tried to cover me," Oscar said.
"We need to quash the fireworks
outside the Fourth of July, at least
for this year -- maybe a few years."
"That won't be easy," Theodore said.
"You know how frisky people get,
just from chasing them in the parks."
Oscar sighed. "I think that's actually
why they chose the parking lot," he said.
"We have to do something, though,
before anyone really gets hurt."
"Are you all right?" Theodore said.
"Your voice sounds a bit odd."
"It's nothing," Oscar said. "I bit
my lip when I hit the ground, is all.
What worries me is that Labib isn't
usually jumpy, and he freaked.
If one unexpected firecracker can
do that to him, what's it going to do
to the rest of them, all week long?"
"Nothing good," Theodore said.
"All right, we'll need to arrange
an announcement. I can talk
with the Fire Department and
Public Health, if you'll handle
Parks and Recreation."
"That I can do," Oscar said,
grateful to have something
actually in his wheelhouse.
"Somebody needs to reach out
to Ibrahim," said Theodore. "He's
the one people will turn to in panic
if they believe they're being bombed."
"I think Labib is on it, or will be,"
Oscar said. "He's shaken,
but he should snap out of it
and work on solutions."
"Speaking of which, how
do you plan to handle all of
the inevitable violations?"
Theodore said. "People are
used to getting away with this,
even though they know they
shouldn't be doing it."
Oscar thought about that.
He really didn't want to involve
the cops, who'd be busy enough
with extra drunk-and-disorderly calls.
He needed more than a warning ticket,
though, or kids wouldn't take it seriously.
"Community classes," Oscar decided.
"Choice of EFA or PTSD support, and
Syrian culture or Syrian civil war.
Add fire safety if necessary."
"That sounds like a good start,"
said Theodore. "What about
repeat offenders, though?"
"First offense, two classes,
one emotional, one cultural,"
Oscar said. "Second offense,
the other two classes plus
fire safety if they didn't
do that one already."
"And save the cops for
the third," Theodore added.
"That'll work. Not many kids
will want to risk more classes
in the middle of summer."
Oscar laughed. "Well, I
sure as hell wouldn't have."
"Speaking of kids, though, are
those classes right for them?"
Theodore wondered.
"College kids or teens
are most of the ones who
light fireworks, and they'll do
fine in adult classes," Oscar said.
"Younger ones, make their parents
take the classes, and give the kids
an age-appropriate talk about
not scaring the skin off people."
"That sounds like a good plan,"
Theodore said. "You're really
getting good at this, Oscar."
"I don't know what the heck we're
going to do about the Fourth itself,
though," said Oscar. "It's not fair
to ask people to give up fireworks."
"Open a bigger shelter," Theodore said.
"Every year the veterans and some folks
with sensory issues get together and throw
basement parties where the sound and smell
don't carry. If they run out of room, I open
an underground storm shelter for them."
"Oh, that's a great idea," Oscar said.
"When one of my cousins was little,
he was so scared of fireworks that
he'd wet himself, so we used to go
downstairs and show home movies
instead of going to the fairgrounds."
"That would work," Theodore said.
"We could throw an Americana Party.
Show our new neighbors what else
we do for the Fourth besides fireworks."
"Picnics. Parades. Party games.
Family photos. Telling stories.
Red, white, and blue food -- hell,
red, white, and blue everything,"
Oscar said with a laugh.
"Come to that, I think that
the veterans already bought
a gross of T-shirts tie-dyed
in red, white, and blue to
give away," Theodore said.
"The Vermont clothes were
a hit," Oscar said, nodding.
"So your cousin -- did he
ever get used to fireworks?"
Theodore asked him.
"Yeah, my uncle bought
pea-sized poppers to play with,
and the girls made fake fireworks
with flower petals. My mom cooked
maple pecan popcorn for the movies."
Oscar said. "Four years later, Jake
set the yard on fire with Black Cats."
"Well, we'll try to avoid that part,"
Theodore said dryly. "The rest
of it sounds very promising."
Oscar hadn't thought about
any of this in years -- so many
of his relatives had moved away --
but they were happy memories.
He could pull together the same kind
of party now, he felt sure of it.
Maybe it would help Labib
and the other Syrians.
"I've got enough ideas
to start with," Oscar said.
"Good, then let's get on it,"
Theodore said. "I'll call you
tomorrow to touch base on
whatever progress we've made.
Thank you for bringing this
to my attention, Oscar."
"You're welcome,"
Oscar said, and
wrapped up the call.
When he went back to
the breakroom, Labib was
still talking on his phone
in Arabic, but quickly
said his goodbyes.
"Oh, your face," he said.
"It's coming up bruises!"
"Don't worry about it,"
Oscar said. "I've hurt
myself worse than this
every time I wipe out on
the slopes. What's up?"
"I have warned Ibrahim
about the fireworks this week,"
Labib said. "He thinks his sons
may find them upsetting too,
but we have some ideas for
coping with the challenges."
"Great, because Theodore and
I came up with a few things too,"
Oscar said. "We'll do what we can
to discourage out-of-bounds fireworks,
but we also thought of ways to make
the holiday more comfortable for you
and yours. It's not a new problem."
"I suppose not," Labib said. "It just
feels very conspicuous, sometimes."
"Nah, we have veterans who feel
the same way. Plus I have a cousin
who was scared of fireworks as a boy.
I think I'll call him up and invite him
to come for a visit," Oscar said. "I've
got room for Jake and his family
to stay with me in the cabin."
"That's kind of you," said Labib.
"I'm thinking basement parties,
introduce folks to traditions for
the Fourth of July that don't
involve blowing things up,"
Oscar said. "Movies, games,
maple and pecan popcorn,
red, white, and blue everything."
"It sounds nice," Labib said.
"Do you have a basement?"
"Yeah, but mine's a walkout
so it won't work. We need one
all underground to block the noise,"
Oscar said. "I'll ask around, but
the mayor already offered to open
a storm shelter if we need one."
"Not everyone might feel
comfortable in something that
looks like a bunker," Labib said.
"So we sort 'em out and send
those folks to a private home
if they need to hide from fireworks,"
Oscar said. "We can make it work."
"I do believe we can," Labib said.
He was almost smiling now.
"Come on, let's head over to
Mandy's Diner," said Oscar.
"At least let me buy you supper
to make up for my town's screwup.
We can talk about party planning
and EFA over delicious food."
Labib chuckled. "I am glad
that you like our food," he said.
"That Kardal is a real whiz at
the grill, and as a wilderneer I
do not say that lightly," Oscar said.
"Then it is good that we could bring
such joy to your town," Labib said.
"Yeah," Oscar said. "It really is."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
Re: Well ...
Date: 2021-10-03 03:50 pm (UTC)Thanks.
I think...we need to maintain civil discourse (in both senses of the term) between different people.
Realistically, I should just...give up. But I've got just enough hope that I keep trying. (Plus, if people will listen to me, maybe I have a duty to do something. Nor do I want my friends to get mangled by the system.)
And my goals are hopefully humble enough that maybe they'll work. I don't need to make a rose plant into soft moss - I just need enough change that the roseplant doesn't accidentaly slice somebody up.