Way Around, Page 2
tedgemon
I do have a canoe back here.
Eric: Oh really?
George: No. [laughs] Wouldn’t get enough use out of it to justify.
Eric: How long have you been on the road?
George: Almost a year.
Eric: With no sign of stopping, I bet.
George: Not that I can tell, but I can’t see the future, so who knows.
Eric: Who indeed.
[George pulls out a small liquor bottle and offers it to Eric, who declines. George shrugs and takes a quick pull]
Eric: Where are you originally from?
George: I was born on Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I’ve lived all over, but I guess that’s home. But God, Jacksonville is a shit hole.
Eric: And you served, too, didn’t you?
George: Why do you say that?
Eric: The overwhelming majority of veterans are also children of veterans. I read that somewhere.
George: In my case, you would be right. Like my father, I did some time in the Marine Corps.
Eric: Did some time? You make it sound like a prison sentence. Even if you were in Vietnam, those forces were mostly volunteer. Which means no one made you.
George: Right again. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. A sense of obligation drove me to it.
Eric: To your family?
George: To this country.
Eric: Spoken like the true patriot.
George: It’s easy to jump headlong into things as a kid and wholly commit to shit that’s so far above and beyond you it may as well be on the moon. But the older you get, the more you realize things will roll on with our without you. You see how complicated the world really is. You start to understand just how much you don’t understand. The average age of the modern warfighter is twenty-one or so. Half these boys can’t even drink, but they’re taking lives across the world for minimum wage because politicians in three thousand dollar suits tell them to.
Eric: You sound disillusioned.
George: It’s just a funny thing. Which is to say it aint really funny at all. Not to me. But I think patriotism can exist independent of blind obedience.
Eric: Anything in particular bring you to North Florida?
George: A coin toss. I got on 75 South in Nashville and drove until I saw something I liked.
Eric: And you like Publix parking lots?
George: Sure. They got clean bathrooms nearby. The springs aren’t too far from here. Some good restaurants. All these oak trees! I’ve never seen so many so big. It’s like you could get lost in the woods driving down the street. It’s great. And I’ve heard there’s some such bat house around here that’s got some absurd number of bats in it.
Eric: Yeah, it’s on campus. There’s two of them, actually. I think they’ve got almost a half million bats between them.
George: No kidding? And they just fly all around you, huh? That’s some wild shit. I need to see that.
Eric: It’s open to the public. You can basically walk up to the houses. You could go stand there every night of the week, if you wanted to.
George: So y’all do have something other than geriatrics in this state!
Eric: You know, I have this theory old people just appear here. They have no idea how they get here, but they say screw it, and just stay. They get their revenge on the universe by driving ten under and shopping on the weekends with the rest of us, when they could do it any time. Hell, look at you!
George: Ha!
Eric: [loosens his tie and releases the top button on his shirt. He drags the back of his hand across his forehead.] I’ve lived all of my twenty-five years in this state, and I still don’t think I’m used to this heat.
George: I doubt that mop on your head is helping much.
Eric: I know, I know. But I don’t look good with a buzz cut.
George: It’s all in your head…
Eric: I see what you did there. [George snickers] That’s such a dad joke.
George: A what?
Eric: A dad joke. It’s just a really cheesy pun.
George: Kids these days…
Eric: You got any kids?
George: I got a couple, yeah.
Eric: Where are they?
George: All over the place. One of them’s an officer the in the Marine Corps, and the other is a carpenter up in New England.
Eric: And their mother, where is she?
George: Out of the picture for the last decade. She left us out of some dire dissatisfaction which she never bothered to explain to anyone. Makes you wonder if one can ever fully, truly know someone else. Maybe Conrad was right.
Eric: How so?
George: In Heart of Darkness, there’s a bit about how it’s impossible to perfectly convey the essence of one’s experience to another person. There’s always some fog between people.
Eric: An interesting sentiment, albeit a bleak one.
George: Should we really shy away from facts just because they don’t marry up with our sentiments? No pun intended. [takes another quick pull from the liquor bottle, then places it back in the truck] Believe me, I was as broken up about it as one can-and maybe should-be. But you can’t dwell on it forever. To live in the past is to squander the present. Besides, that and a thousand other moments led me here. And you know I’m alright with that. This life will kill you if you take it too seriously.
Eric: [fully unties his tie and slides the back of his hand across his forehead, flicking the collected sweat away] Well, I think I’ll go and get out of your hair.
George: I aint got much left of it.
Eric: It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett. [extends his hand, George shakes it] Good luck with your adventure.
George: Likewise, bud. We’ll see you around.
Eric: You say that, but you know it’s not true.
George: Fair enough.
Eric: [begins to walk away, shouts back over his shoulder and waves] Take it easy, George.
George: Oh you know I will. Hey! [Eric reaches for his car door but turns around] Just keep in mind, the only difference between you and me is a good yard sale. [Eric laughs, gets into his car, and drives away]
Scene Two
Eric walks into the newspaper’s office, his tie still untied and hanging about his neck. He collapses into his chair. He sits there for a long moment, starting off into space. He then opens his laptop and begins typing. A colleague walks by.
Colleague: You’re back. How was it?
Eric: [doesn’t look up, continues typing] Interesting, to say the least. The guy lives in an old delivery truck. Well, he sleeps in it and drives it around.
Colleague: A delivery truck? That sounds like a goldmine.
Eric: You could say that.
Colleague: What have you got so far? [walks around to stand behind Eric] Ordinary Man Probably Saves a Life? What the hell kind of title is that?
Eric: [smiling] The most accurate one I can think of.
Colleague: You know the editor aint gonna have it.
Eric: Honestly, I would expect nothing less.
Colleague: Then why bother?
Eric: Because it’s true.
Colleague: Has the heat gotten to your head?
Eric: [laughs] Hell, maybe it has.
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Eric: Oh really?
George: No. [laughs] Wouldn’t get enough use out of it to justify.
Eric: How long have you been on the road?
George: Almost a year.
Eric: With no sign of stopping, I bet.
George: Not that I can tell, but I can’t see the future, so who knows.
Eric: Who indeed.
[George pulls out a small liquor bottle and offers it to Eric, who declines. George shrugs and takes a quick pull]
Eric: Where are you originally from?
George: I was born on Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I’ve lived all over, but I guess that’s home. But God, Jacksonville is a shit hole.
Eric: And you served, too, didn’t you?
George: Why do you say that?
Eric: The overwhelming majority of veterans are also children of veterans. I read that somewhere.
George: In my case, you would be right. Like my father, I did some time in the Marine Corps.
Eric: Did some time? You make it sound like a prison sentence. Even if you were in Vietnam, those forces were mostly volunteer. Which means no one made you.
George: Right again. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. A sense of obligation drove me to it.
Eric: To your family?
George: To this country.
Eric: Spoken like the true patriot.
George: It’s easy to jump headlong into things as a kid and wholly commit to shit that’s so far above and beyond you it may as well be on the moon. But the older you get, the more you realize things will roll on with our without you. You see how complicated the world really is. You start to understand just how much you don’t understand. The average age of the modern warfighter is twenty-one or so. Half these boys can’t even drink, but they’re taking lives across the world for minimum wage because politicians in three thousand dollar suits tell them to.
Eric: You sound disillusioned.
George: It’s just a funny thing. Which is to say it aint really funny at all. Not to me. But I think patriotism can exist independent of blind obedience.
Eric: Anything in particular bring you to North Florida?
George: A coin toss. I got on 75 South in Nashville and drove until I saw something I liked.
Eric: And you like Publix parking lots?
George: Sure. They got clean bathrooms nearby. The springs aren’t too far from here. Some good restaurants. All these oak trees! I’ve never seen so many so big. It’s like you could get lost in the woods driving down the street. It’s great. And I’ve heard there’s some such bat house around here that’s got some absurd number of bats in it.
Eric: Yeah, it’s on campus. There’s two of them, actually. I think they’ve got almost a half million bats between them.
George: No kidding? And they just fly all around you, huh? That’s some wild shit. I need to see that.
Eric: It’s open to the public. You can basically walk up to the houses. You could go stand there every night of the week, if you wanted to.
George: So y’all do have something other than geriatrics in this state!
Eric: You know, I have this theory old people just appear here. They have no idea how they get here, but they say screw it, and just stay. They get their revenge on the universe by driving ten under and shopping on the weekends with the rest of us, when they could do it any time. Hell, look at you!
George: Ha!
Eric: [loosens his tie and releases the top button on his shirt. He drags the back of his hand across his forehead.] I’ve lived all of my twenty-five years in this state, and I still don’t think I’m used to this heat.
George: I doubt that mop on your head is helping much.
Eric: I know, I know. But I don’t look good with a buzz cut.
George: It’s all in your head…
Eric: I see what you did there. [George snickers] That’s such a dad joke.
George: A what?
Eric: A dad joke. It’s just a really cheesy pun.
George: Kids these days…
Eric: You got any kids?
George: I got a couple, yeah.
Eric: Where are they?
George: All over the place. One of them’s an officer the in the Marine Corps, and the other is a carpenter up in New England.
Eric: And their mother, where is she?
George: Out of the picture for the last decade. She left us out of some dire dissatisfaction which she never bothered to explain to anyone. Makes you wonder if one can ever fully, truly know someone else. Maybe Conrad was right.
Eric: How so?
George: In Heart of Darkness, there’s a bit about how it’s impossible to perfectly convey the essence of one’s experience to another person. There’s always some fog between people.
Eric: An interesting sentiment, albeit a bleak one.
George: Should we really shy away from facts just because they don’t marry up with our sentiments? No pun intended. [takes another quick pull from the liquor bottle, then places it back in the truck] Believe me, I was as broken up about it as one can-and maybe should-be. But you can’t dwell on it forever. To live in the past is to squander the present. Besides, that and a thousand other moments led me here. And you know I’m alright with that. This life will kill you if you take it too seriously.
Eric: [fully unties his tie and slides the back of his hand across his forehead, flicking the collected sweat away] Well, I think I’ll go and get out of your hair.
George: I aint got much left of it.
Eric: It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett. [extends his hand, George shakes it] Good luck with your adventure.
George: Likewise, bud. We’ll see you around.
Eric: You say that, but you know it’s not true.
George: Fair enough.
Eric: [begins to walk away, shouts back over his shoulder and waves] Take it easy, George.
George: Oh you know I will. Hey! [Eric reaches for his car door but turns around] Just keep in mind, the only difference between you and me is a good yard sale. [Eric laughs, gets into his car, and drives away]
Scene Two
Eric walks into the newspaper’s office, his tie still untied and hanging about his neck. He collapses into his chair. He sits there for a long moment, starting off into space. He then opens his laptop and begins typing. A colleague walks by.
Colleague: You’re back. How was it?
Eric: [doesn’t look up, continues typing] Interesting, to say the least. The guy lives in an old delivery truck. Well, he sleeps in it and drives it around.
Colleague: A delivery truck? That sounds like a goldmine.
Eric: You could say that.
Colleague: What have you got so far? [walks around to stand behind Eric] Ordinary Man Probably Saves a Life? What the hell kind of title is that?
Eric: [smiling] The most accurate one I can think of.
Colleague: You know the editor aint gonna have it.
Eric: Honestly, I would expect nothing less.
Colleague: Then why bother?
Eric: Because it’s true.
Colleague: Has the heat gotten to your head?
Eric: [laughs] Hell, maybe it has.
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