SHADO'

"Where the hell did you dig that up, Ricky?  Looks like it's been here since before the people! Come off a mastodon! Come off a woolly bully! We'll get you a real chaw when we get back to the house. Somethin' with a strip of meat to it! Looks like that's gonna need wait, though. 

"I was just about to close the gate and then, ‘whoa-up!’ I said. ‘There comes Randall!’ You know, that old piece-a-crap long bed of yours has a fair distinctive rattle! Like the motor's gonna just drop out any minute!" 

"Kinda like your knukle-fuckin' head, right?"

 "Ah, that's already in the scrapyard, brother! Long time! You just lookin' at the frame!" 

"Well, anyways, after the fire they moved in with us for a while and then Mindy decided she wanted to be closer to her family...permanent...like five miles had been just too damn far to bear, y'know...and by that time, the tribe had sort of formed their village around our house anyway...I mean Missy's clan...and Reynolds retired right after that from the county...he'd worked in the auditors office for a hundred years...got a good pension. So they bought a couple of acres from us at the usual family discount which is one reason why I'm not in a boat off Costa Rica with a line in water and then, despite the fact that, like I said, they could've afforded to build 'em a pretty nice house, they turned around and did just like the rest of the crew and got 'em a jimbo jumbo double-wide. Maybe they just didn't want to show the others up or something...none the rest that family ever did anything you'd get a pension from...but man, that mother had everything in it you can imagine...top of the line...hot tub, built-in appliances...mostly plastic and particle of course...but, shit, it's the same in most of the development stick-builts now...your estate homes...ha!..had a bar...though neither one of them drink...mama don't allow no drinkin' in that family. And Mindy adjusted real good to the new place...big surprise. But old Reynolds...man, he just wasn't the same. Maybe part of it...at least as I heard was...he was after while wantin' to adopt another kitty. But Missy said Mindy had put her foot down. No sir! No more critters! And, to tell the truth, I think that was a sentence. I think that left Reynolds pretty much alone. Now Mindy is a nice woman, and a pretty nice lookin’ woman to boot, if you'll keep that comment to yourself. But, Reynolds is sort of off in his own little world. I got a cousin like that. But he's got himself a big model train set-up in a room he built over his garage...man you ought to see that thing!...looks just like a picture of an old railroad town...back in the steam days. You go over there any time of day or night and you hear Toot! Toot! comin' from up there, and you know he's in his element. Fuck the world! I mean, like, what world? But Reynolds...I guess he just couldn't light on anything like that. He kept, ever now and then, drivin' out to where his old home stood...wanderin' around...you know what I mean. Truth to tell that's a real rat hole out there, where he was, if you ask me. At one time the Pritchard brothers...you remember them? They was before your time...kinda...anyway...they had big plans to put a development out there...had some roads cut...none paved although they would have been...and they had, oh, maybe a dozen pads put down and had finished all of three houses...three...including the one Reynolds had before they got into financial trouble and pulled the plug. The Pritchards, I mean. So that house of theirs just sort of sat out there in the middle of no man's land before it burnt...and the woods hadn't really come back...still haven't...it's mostly just brush and scrub pine. And then one day, when he was out there messin' his one and only neighbor come along the road and told Reynolds he thought maybe he'd seen his cat! See, they never found a carcass. But the fire had been so hot they didn't even find the damn stove! Well, maybe a burner. But boys, that's all old Reynolds needed to hear. His buddy had maybe survived! After that, he started goin' out there ever damn day! He'd look and look and call and call, then he'd sit awhile...then go back to scourin' through the blackberries. Jesus! Finally, he got in his head that he'd stand a better chance of seein' her...the cat...I don't remember its name...no...it was Shado', I think...yeah...he decided he'd better spend the night out there. Got him a little tent at K-Mart and a sleeping bag, and off he went! Of course...guess...he didn't see the damn cat. He came back home, worse off I think than ever...stayed a couple of days...and then...boom...right back he went. He was back and forth for a couple of weeks...maybe a couple of months...then pretty much just moved his ass out there! I thought maybe Mindy might have him committed or something, but she decided to just let him be like he wanted to be. I think she might have had some interest on the side for awhile anyway, and she got a realtor license and she's always controlled everything they have and like I said, I think she's a pretty good soul to start with...as well as nice lookin'...she swims and plays tennis...mmm. So, anyway, I went out to see him the other day...he's been out there better than two years now...it just popped in my head that I thought I go see old crazy Reynolds! And that whole property out there sort of reminds me of one of some apocalypse movie...you know? You can still see those abandoned pads with the plumbing and conduit coming up and there's even some post where they were gonna put the street signs...best laid plans, eh? Anyway, that boy's got him a little lean-to of a thing out there...sheet metal...looks like a kid built it, but, it works, I guess...and he lives in that thing. He's got no electricity, no running water...just a camp stove and there's a retention pond out there where he takes a bath...he's got him a beard and his hair's long, but he's keeping himself pretty clean. I don't think a really truly crazy person would do that. Keep his self up like that. And you know, he's got a portable radio. And he said he listens to music some, but not a whole lot, he said. And he's got him some books...but again, he said he might read an hour or two a day...that's it. Mostly what he does is just walk and sit. He just watches and listens. I tell ya honestly...I like being out alone in the woods from time to time myself. But living like he does would drive me nuts! I mean, he ain't even really in the woods...though he did say if you walk to the end of what's left of what was to be the main road...Laurel Lane or some mess...ha! Anyway, you walk to the end and then between a couple of the horse pastures people got out there, you come right up on the border of the national forest. But, even then, that don't mean a lot. Livin' like that would still make me crazy...much as I sometimes would like...quiet. But it sure suits him some kind of a way. I mean, when you're around him a little bit, you start thinkin'. He sorta gives an impression he's not worried one way or the other if he goes on living. And I don't mean like some people...because he seems like he's sorta enjoying life. But maybe like an animal does...or what I think of an animal doin', you know...who are we to know?...just walkin'...lookin'. Got his birds and trees and pond and all the critters. Like I say, it makes you think. I mean I know some people don't care bout livin' because they want really to get the hell out of it! I had an uncle like that. Had heart trouble...or so they said. And he just sort of laid there in his big old chair...they had it sittin' right in the damn kitchen, because that's where all the action was back then...and they was kind of old timey even for the day! And he sat there because he didn't want to miss anything or any opportunity to piss and moan about how bad he was feelin'. And ever time you were around him he'd go on about he wished he could live to see all his grandchildren growed up and how he had always wanted to travel around the country with his wife...my aunt...in their old age and see all the sights, although they'd a had to hitch hike! But...and I was still in my twenties and wasn't as hip to the ways of my elders as I am now that am one...but even then...I could smell a rat. He talked just a little too much. Truth was, I think he just saw his life as too much effort. It hadn't turned out like he'd hoped, maybe...or it probably wouldn't have made any difference how it turned out. I just don't think he had the heart to be satisfied. Like a lot of people. But old Catman Reynolds...he's not like that. I don't think he's so much anxious for the end as more like ready to fade into the background. Like he doesn't see much difference anymore between him and that lost cat. Or some red bird or tree or the sky above. Maybe he's on to something.

"Let me ask you...you scared of dying? I come close a couple of times, but really crossin' over still puts the fear in me. And...I know...I been goin' to Shiloh Baptist ever Sunday since I was a kid but I don't believe in the Heaven they preach about anymore now than I did back when I was a buck! In fact, less! I know I can say that with you. At home, I get ostracized! That's why I keep my damn mouth shut and just head on out ever Sunday!  Whew!"

"Maybe it's just endin' without experiencin' things you thought you would.  You know, dying in front of the TV set instead of...you know..." 

"Fuckin?" 

"Hmm! I mean...you know...I thought we was gonna be somethin'!" 

"Well, shit, man!  We are somethin'!" 

"Yeah. We're somethin', alright!" 

"Well, Ricky! That was sort of like hearin' a clap of thunder between the mountains! A come a storm we didn't expect! I think what we saw there was another old man pinin' for that he knows is lost. That sweetest sweetness of life...don't ya think? I don't know if he knows himself what he wants or if he did if he would dare speak its name as they say but I believe he's longin' to be in love again, don't you?

"And what you think, dear dog? Was this bein' in love toward which we harken just some kind of dream? A hant that won't let us be? Can we even remember love? What it looked like? How it sounded? The scent? Mmmm. How it felt? Ah...ah, yes.

"A yearning, dear old hound, without hope and old death approaching. Hmmph! The suspect is called before the bench. Sir, what do you have to say for yourself? Can you look us in the eye and explain the reason for your taking up space? Oops! Where are you? The suspect has wandered off! Come, come! We will try again. Now, here! Relax and concentrate. What is the nature of your crime or if it's not a crime, the nature of whatever it is you do or are? Ah, there he goes again. Yes. Again. Once more. And, you are, sir?

"And now, to bone!"

William Painter has had stories published in eyeshot, Hobart, Konundrun Engine and Pindeldyboz.  He currently works on a small farm in the foothills of South Carolina.

Return