Here's another from the Files of Heart. Truman Capote was a master at reissuing and reframing his writing in various formats. And always, one found something new -- something that had been missed in previous readings. Take a look at his The Dog's Bark: Public People and Private Places and you'll know what I mean.
Here's a reissued story of mine about family, friends, life's surprises, aging and the joy one finds in simple adventures; a combination actually of time in the Midwest and the Pacific Northwest, with my dear Auntie playing a huge role in little Jimmy's adventures.
New ruminations are ruminating and will be posted as soon as they jell. Like Jimmy's mind, my mind has been in a flutter and a "state of doze."
For now, enjoy SOUP IN THE BIG THING.
SJA
_____________________________
Sometimes it’s best to sip life slowly -- like a root beer float that’s almost melted. At least that’s what Jimmy was thinking on this hot, midwestern afternoon. Having just finished picking blackberries with his Auntie and aging neighbors, Ed and Vera, this moment of relaxation was being savored by all.
Ah, the root beer stand -- proudly erected just weeks ago in bright orange, announcing a new retro gathering place for the people of his small, rural domicile. Other neighbors and acquaintances were gathered there that day: farmers and merchants, lawyers and doctors, even the mayor and his cabinet were enjoying a special session recess! All slurpin’ down the ice-cold root beer ... sharing a rare moment of community.
“Such an interesting thing,” thought Jimmy. “Everybody seems to get along at the root beer stand. I wonder why that is?”
What surprised Jimmy most was Ed and Vera. They were acting more like kids in the back seat than he was. Like a little prince from some far away country, somewhat chubby but ever aware, Jimmy sat in the front seat surveying the crowd through his owlish glasses. He was quite wise for being ten. Ed and Vera were being silly. And they were close to being ten times Jimmy’s age.
“Why do adults get like that?” Jimmy pondered. He drew the almost final sip from his still frosty mug and mused some more. Although wise for his years and reflective by nature, Jimmy was quite naive when it came to human development. At times like these he’d often turn to his Auntie for suggestions. While the ancient ones cackled with joy in the back seat, Jimmy asked some vital questions: “What in the heck is happening here, Auntie? Why are people one way, and then suddenly another?”
Auntie grabbed a handful of blackberries, popped them into her mouth, let out a sigh of pleasure, and spoke.
“Ed and Vera haven’t picked blackberries in twenty years, Jimmy. And it has been even longer since they’ve sat at a root beer stand slurpin’ up the froth. Sometimes old people just seem old. When you get to be old, you’ll understand. Everyone is a kid at heart, always seeking the simple things in life. You know, something that will bring them back to center -- something that will make them feel real again. As real as a root beer float.”
“Auntie, I need another root beer. And you need to be a bit more clear with your almost metaphors.”
“OK, Jimmy. Get your nose out of that book and look into the car next to us.”
Well, the activity in the car next door was quite a sight. Four root beers stood steaming in the sun. They hadn’t even been removed from the window tray. In the front seat, the adults were both yapping on their cell phones, calendars in hand. In the back seat the two kids were equally engaged in technological wizardry. One was engrossed in his lap top computer games. The other was zoned out, ear-phoned and visibly mouthing Madonna words with her portable CD player in hand.
“Not so simple,” thought Jimmy. “And so many distracting things, all somewhat out of place.”
Just then the carhop came by and Auntie ordered up another round for her party. This time super mugs, with extra ice cream. Jimmy sat back and reflected on the joy of his day, taking in the memories like his last sip of commingled beer and cream.
***
“Today we’re having an adventure,” announced Auntie. “Let’s jump in the car and go-go-go!”
Ed and Vera were standing at the corner, wildly dressed in blackberry picking garb. The conversation was animated and filled with chuckles as the foursome drove to The Cobbler for breakfast. The townsfolk, including many of those soon to be at the root beer stand, were gathered here too. After enjoying a hearty meal, the group of pickers piled in and drove off into the sunrise.
First stop, The Red Mill -- to take in the last drop of morning coolness by the stream and recall the turns of a once sage-like water wheel. From there, the winding country roads led the anxious pickers to their berried destination. But not without stops to pick cattails and wild flowers for an Auntie floral creation. There were creatures to see as well: deer, rabbits, squirrels, and birds -- all enjoying another day of free, spirited roaming. Finally, the berry patch -- a secret place known only to those in the family’s inner circle. Buckets in hand, and hand in hand, the laughing quartet entered the thorny maze.
Unlike raspberries, blackberries dictate a bit more picking skill. Patience is paramount; and dodging the guardian thorns of deliciousness a challenge. Each berry must be plucked, ever so delicately from the twisted, tall, stalk-like berry bearers. After some four hours, the trunk was overflowing with the glistening reddish-black jewels of conquest. Of course, Auntie called a recess for a picnic lunch of tuna fish sandwiches, potato salad, and sun-brewed ice tea. During lunch, Ed and Vera reminisced -- talking to the breeze about their courtship, marriage, family, and travels. Auntie and Jimmy munched up berries and gleefully listened.
At the peak of the heat, the job was complete. The strangely possessed entourage returned to town -- panting, but happy. Almost in unison, when the orange beacon came into sight, they cried out, “ROOT BEER!”
***
“Now what’s going on in that overactive mind of yours?” queried Auntie.
Jimmy hesitated a moment and shouted, “SOUP IN THE BIG THING!”
You see, Auntie is a bone nurse, and loves to dig around in joints and marrow. When called to the ER, a mad-scientist-like-glaze enlivens her eyes. Work and art congeal for her in the operating room. But her life springs forth from simple daily doings. Philosophy plays a role in the connections, but Jimmy’s recent uttering triggered a disjointed look of puzzlement on her regal face.
“Now, what exactly are you trying to conjure?” she wisped, while bending a straw into sculptured doodles.
“Remember those times when some friends of yours made homemade soup?” Jimmy asked. “I was much younger then, so I don’t recall all the details. However, I distinctly remember two special occasions. One was the day after Christmas -- a holiday soup creation with noodle stars and trees. The other was around my birthday -- a rich chicken and dumpling extravaganza. Whoever those two fellows were, they sure knew how to cook. I remember digging around in your cupboards looking for Grandma’s soup pot. Why, that big thing makes enough soup for an army of Thanksgiv’n family-member leftovers she’d say. Anyway, so, Soup in the Big Thing. Get it?”
“Sure makes sense to us,” quipped Ed and Vera in unison. “Traditions, celebrations, enchanted cooking utensils, family and friends ... almost reminds us of today.”
By this time, the car next door was gone. Drove right off with the window tray and root beer mugs, they did! Not even blinking an eye. Most everyone else had hurried off too. Only so much time available for comradery and joy -- even on a Saturday afternoon.
Just sitting at a root beer stand seemed exciting enough for Auntie, Jimmy, Ed and Vera -- an unlikely gathering of years, tears, and cheer. The now quite root beered four remained steadfast as the discussion drifted in new directions.
“I’m not feeling thirsty at the moment,” noted Auntie. “And I’m not sure this has anything to do with my quenched root beer longings.”
“Probably not,” stated Vera, “because life is the real Big Thing. Whether you’re sipping up ice cream from the bottom of a mug or slurpin’ up warm noodles from the bowl, the thirst we all have is a thirst for living. It’s quite simple, you see. Today we tasted life.”
“Think about it,” commented Ed. “They’re even building root beer stands again! Too bad those people in that other car don’t know the difference. Always so busy -- everybody is always so darn busy these days.”
Things. Soup. Gathering places and gatherings. Jimmy’s mind was a flutter as he dozed off and Auntie drove Ed and Vera home.
*****
