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September 30, 2007
The Work Gloves, The Conclusion
It had been a week since Charlie gave the Chinaman the gloves and the Chinaman was still in his head. Charlie still saw the Chinaman's hands every morning when he woke up and every night before he went to bed, and he still woke up in the middle of the night with the image of the Chinaman's hands seared into his brain. But they no longer looked the same. They appeared to be healing. Slowly. Inexorably.
As the Chinaman's wounds healed the scales fell from Charlie's eyes. He noticed the cruelties the Chinese suffered every day. The name calling. The beatings. The dangerous jobs they were given. In the past he'd not only ignored these things, he'd actively participated in them, forcing them to work long, brutal hours. He began to realize that when he'd buried Emily he'd buried his humanity alongside her. He realized too that Emily would have been terribly ashamed of him. No, not ashamed, for Emily had never been judgmental, rather she would have been sad, she would have grieved. And knowing that Charlie was ashamed of himself.
Charlie was no longer afraid of the Chinaman. He was afraid of something. The way his guts sometimes twisted up and his hands shook left little doubt of that, but it wasn't the Chinaman he was afraid of. Not exactly. He was afraid of what the Chinaman had brought with him. He'd felt it in the wind the night he'd journeyed to the Chinaman's camp and twice since then. Redemption.
Charlie told the Chinaman not to let any other foreman see him wearing the gloves or they'd beat him, maybe worse. Charlie himself had the Chinaman permanently assigned to his crew, thereby decreasing the chances that another foreman would catch him. At the end of each day the Chinaman returned to his camp and hid the gloves in the event that someone other than Charlie found his camp and searched it.
One morning Charlie was awakened by a ruckus outside his bunkhouse window. The day before another foreman had lost his pocket watch, and later that evening, after several drinks, he convinced a few of his friends that he'd been robbed. Drunk, they'd searched Chinatown, and, finding nothing, had waited until morning to search all the workers.
The Chinaman had been one of the fist to arrive at the work camp and they'd jumped him. They found a watch, not the foreman's but it would do, and they found the work gloves.
When Charlie got outside he saw the Chinaman tied up behind a horse, struggling to stay on his feet. Charlie demanded to know what was going on and the foreman who had been robbed angrily replied that they were going to lynch "that thieving Chinaman."
And in that instant Charlie understood everything.
He told the foreman to let the Chinaman go but the other man pulled his gun instead.
Later several men would agree that Charlie's draw had been the fastest they'd ever seen. And if he hadn't hesitated for just a split second the other man wouldn't have stood a chance.
The instant before the other man went down Charlie felt the bullet pierce his side.
The other foremen, stunned to see two of their own laying in the dust, quickly untied the Chinaman and fled the scene. They wanted no part of this anymore.
The Chinaman approached Charlie, who lay dying.
"Would you like to go home now Charlie ?" the Chinaman asked.
"Yes." Charlie whispered with his dying breath.
The Chinaman slowly put the gloves on, then bent and picked up Charlie's body.
Three days later, having walked day and night, he arrived at Charlie's old farm. He went into the barn and found a shovel then dug a grave next to Emily's. In the house he found an old sheet, which he used to wrap Charlie's body in.
He put the body in the grave then took off the gloves and threw them in.
"I promised to give these back when I was done with them Charlie." he said, then he filled the grave and walked away.
Posted by OldGuy at 3:56 PM | Comments (4)
September 23, 2007
Just an Update
No, I'm not dead yet. It was a rather trying week around the old homestead so I was laying low. Things are a little better now. Not "I must have died and gone to heaven" but they're an improvement.
Anyway, as I've said so many times before, my will to write just gets sapped when things are tough so that's why the story was on hold this week. Sorry about that but when you can't do it you can't do it. I'll try to get the next chapter up by Wednesday and wrap it up by the weekend.
On a positive note the whole family went to friends 25th anniversary party last night. It was a lot of fun, which was something I definitely needed right about now.
Oh hey, here's a bit of silliness. A local business left a free roll of toilet paper on everyone's doorstep yesterday, presumably a promotion of some sort. A short time later we got a call from a local news rag asking if we got our free roll of toilet paper, so it was obviously them. My son answered the phone, which was too bad because if I'd answered it I would have been tempted to say something like "yes, we did, and since we don't subscribe to your newspaper this will come in handy to wipe my behind instead." What they should have done was left a free roll of toilet paper and a free newspaper. That would be a brilliant advertising campaign, sorta like "since you're going to the bathroom here's some toilet paper for your behind and a newspaper to read while you're at it." I might be tempted to take out a subscription if the people running the paper showed that kind of marketing savvy.
Posted by OldGuy at 7:35 PM | Comments (2)
September 13, 2007
The Work Gloves, Part 5
Charlie waited until he was sure everyone was asleep then he quietly left the camp, heading south. He carried no lamp, afraid of revealing himself or dropping it out there in the wilderness and setting fire to God knows what.
There was no road, not even a trail. Just shrubs, rocks, and dust. It was warm and there was a warm wind blowing too, stirring up the dust. The moon was up and it lent a little light to the landscape but Charlie still felt like a blind man on a pilgrimage in the desert.
He'd been walking for almost twenty minutes when he spotted a light in the distance, faint at first, then growing as he moved towards it. The light soon resolved itself into the shape of a flame and Charlie knew he had spotted the Chinaman's camp fire.
By the time Charlie reached the Chinaman's camp he was hot, sweaty, and covered in a film of dust.
The Chinaman was sitting next to the fire looking refreshed and at peace. In fact, except for his ravaged hands, to which Charlie's gaze was once again drawn, he looked for all the world like a man content with himself and his surroundings.
"Sit down Charlie." said the Chinaman.
"Thank you." Charlie replied, sitting down across from the Chinaman.
"May I offer you a cup of tea ?" asked the Chinaman.
"No, I just want to get this over with." Charlie replied.
"Very well then. Did you bring the gloves ?" asked the Chinaman.
"Yes, but I'm giving them to you under one condition. You have to give them back when you're done with them. I don't care if you leave tomorrow or if you stay until we're finished this job, I want those gloves back."
"Of course Charlie, I would never dream of keeping them." replied the Chinaman.
Charlie took the gloves out of his shirt, where he'd stashed them earlier, hesitated momentarily, then handed them to the Chinaman.
"Thank you Charlie, they look like fine gloves." said the Chinaman as he took the gloves and held them up to the light. He laid them aside reverently.
"So you'll get out of my head now ?" asked Charlie.
"Soon." replied the Chinaman.
Walking back to the railroad camp Charlie was once again assailed by the heat and the dust. By the time he got back he was tired and filthy.
Laying in bed trying to sleep, Charlie came to a stunning realization.
He was afraid of the Chinaman.
The fear had come on slowly, in fact Charlie had hardly recognized it for what it was at first, it had been so long since he'd felt anything except for the mind-numbing "I don't give a damn" sensation that he woke up with every day and went to bed with every night.
He went over what had happened, trying to figure out why he was afraid, and what he came up with was this:
- the Chinaman had approached him as if they were equals
- he seemed to have singled Charlie out
- he had asked for the gloves then simply waited for Charlie to come to him
- he had cast some sort of spell and gotten inside Charlie's head
- he didn't live with the other Chinese
- he had asked Charlie to meet him on his own territory and Charlie had agreed
So what did it all add up to ?
Simple. The Chinaman was in charge of this situation. Just like Emily's cancer had been in charge of that situation. Emily had died because there had been nothing Charlie could do to help her, and now there had been nothing he could do to help himself, except give the Chinaman the gloves. And Charlie had the feeling his decision had been preordained from the moment the Chinaman approached him with his simple yet staggering request.
And Charlie was scared almost to death.
Posted by OldGuy at 3:09 PM | Comments (9)
September 9, 2007
Team Building
This weekend was our annual team building with the folks from work.
Once again we were off to a lovely place in the Gatineau Hills for a weekend of good food, good company and various exercises intended to increase our abilities to work together as a team (although we do that pretty well already).
I only stayed Friday night and until after lunch on Saturday but I had a good time and the facilitators were interesting, as usual.
Friday evening started off with a murder mystery dinner. The food was excellent and the troupe that was hired to do the murder mystery did an excellent job. They were good actors, quite funny, and the one who turned out to be the murderer was a surprise to most people, myself included, although the clues were there for us to follow.
The remainder of the evening was spent around the camp fire chatting and relaxing. There was a warm breeze blowing and the weather was as fine as could be for a camp fire.
Saturday morning we had a nice breakfast, then played several games, each of which was designed to highlight a particular aspect of working together as a team.
Then it was lunch time, and shortly afterword, we headed home.
All in all, it was a lovely weekend.
The picture is the place we stayed at.
One more thing, there was an interesting conversation around the camp fire about ... oh wait, I said I wouldn't blog about that.
Posted by OldGuy at 8:47 PM | Comments (8)
September 7, 2007
The Work Gloves, Part 4
Charlie had had a couple of drinks to get his courage up. Emily wouldn't have approved, she didn't care much for drinking, but Emily was dead wasn't she ? And now he had to find the Chinaman.
He walked to the Chinese labourer's camp. The foremen derogatorily referred to it as Chinatown. They avoided it as much as possible, afraid they might catch an exotic disease or have a strange spell put on them. You never knew what those people were up to but you could always be sure it was either dirty or bad, or both.
Charlie had never been to their camp and was surprised to find it quiet, he'd expected to see a few of them stumbling around drunk, maybe even naked.
He approached a tent and called out "Anybody in there ?"
Nobody came out so he called again. He heard rustling inside, then a small middle-aged man emerged. He looked at Charlie and asked what he wanted.
Charlie was about to respond that he was looking for a Chinaman when he realized the stupidity of that statement so he said that he was looking for someone.
"Who you looking for ?" the man asked.
"I don't know his name. He's tall, maybe six feet, bald. And his hands .."
He trailed off, noting that the man had bandages around his hands. He asked him what was wrong.
The man responded "Work is hard."
Charlie didn't know what to say so he asked about the Chinaman again. The man responded that he knew everbody in the camp and there was no one who fit that description.
Charlie told the man that he must know who he was talking about, the Chinaman worked with the rest of them.
The man appeared to think about it for a few moments then he responded that he'd seen a man who looked like that laying track however he didn't live in the camp.
Did the man know anything about the Chinaman Charlie asked ?
The man responded that nobody seemed to know the Chinaman, just that he showed up for work every day then left. "I think he lives out there" he said, waving a hand towards the wilderness south of the camp.
The following day Charlie approached the Chinaman.
"Who the hell are you ?" Charlie asked.
"I'm the Chinaman, isn't that how you think of me ?" the Chinaman replied.
"What do you want from me ?" Charlie asked.
"I already told you Charlie, I'd like a pair of gloves." the Chinaman said.
"Okay, I have a pair of gloves I can give you but it isn't going to be that easy. My wife gave me those glove. And I can't do it here."
"Meet me tonight Charlie. Just leave the camp and keep walking south until you see my camp fire."
"And if I do this you'll get out of my head ?" Charlie asked.
Posted by OldGuy at 3:37 PM | Comments (3)
September 6, 2007
And She Ain't Even From South Carolina
Last night I was channel surfing and happened to stop briefly at some game show hosted by Drew Carey (that tells you a lot already).
Drew introduced the first contestant, a bright young doctor from, someplace, maybe it was New York, I wasn't really paying attention at first. He chatted her up, then turned to the other contestant.
The first remark he made was "I understand you live in a geodesic dome", to which she responded "shore do Drew, it 'us deesigned by Buckmaster Fuller."
So I'm thinking, not too bright but maybe she's just nervous, like what's-her-name, the little blonde from South Carolina. Then Drew says "And I understand your name is Hoagie", to which she responds, "yep, shore is, like the samwich."
And it all made sense in a really weird way.
Posted by OldGuy at 8:05 PM | Comments (1)
September 5, 2007
First Day of School
I thought since I posted a photo of myself I'd better not forget The Princess. Here she is yesterday all dolled up and ready to start Grade 4.
Posted by OldGuy at 12:45 PM | Comments (3)
I Found What I Was Looking For !
For the last couple of years I've been searching the internet for some information but couldn't find it. Every now and then I'd do a Google search to no avail.
No info ? Bad search terms ? Buried on page 127 of the search results ?
Who cares, I simply couldn't come up with it.
This morning I decided to give it a shot and imagine my surprise when I found what I was looking for halfway down the first page.
No I'm not going to tell you what it is, that would ruin the surprise as I intend to write about it one of these days.
Just be happy for me.
Oh, and my daughter took the picture when we were out for dinner in Kingston last week. I was laughing at one of my own jokes.
Posted by OldGuy at 10:19 AM | Comments (4)
September 4, 2007
The Poem Below
I wrote this poem for the son of a friend a couple of months ago, when he was being ordained.
I debated a while before posting it as I wrote it expressly for him. I decided to go ahead and do it as I really like it and I don't think he'd mind.
Posted by OldGuy at 2:35 PM
Coming to God
As a child you came to God in innocence
Walking with him, your small hand in his
Believing but not really understanding
And that was all God asked of you
As a boy you came to God in a hurry
Giving him a spare moment between
Baseball games and high school dances
And that was all God asked of you
As a young man you came to God in wonder
Opening your heart to his everlasting love
Learning of his glory and his majesty
And that was all God asked of you
As a grown man you come to God in faith
Knowing that he has guided you to this moment
Ready to do his work and glorify his name
And that is what God asks of you now
Posted by OldGuy at 2:28 PM | Comments (2)
September 2, 2007
I must Have Been Brain Dead Last Night
I only just now noticed a slight contradiction in yesterday's chapter of the story. I fixed it.
Posted by OldGuy at 4:20 PM
September 1, 2007
The Work Gloves, Part 3
Charlie reached under his bed and took out his treasure box. Funny that, at one time he would've thought only kids kept treasure boxes. But not anymore. He hadn't opened the box in almost six months. He opened it now and examined its contents, the only things he had saved from his former life, the only things that had been really worth saving.
There was a letter Emily had written to him when they were courting. If her mother had seen it she would've been shocked at her daughter's boldness. Even Charlie had been a little taken aback, although he'd been thrilled to discover that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. A picture of Emily looking radiant on the day of their wedding. The bible Charlie's mother had given him on his thirteenth birthday. Charlie hadn't opened the bible since Emily died, he wasn't sure he even believed in God anymore. He thought he probably did because every now and then he cursed God for taking Emily from him. And underneath everything else, the work gloves.
One day, not long before Emily's death, Charlie had come in from the fields with his hands blistered and bleeding from a long day's work. Although Charlie hadn't really minded his injuries, resulting as they did from a good day's work on his land, Emily had wept over them. That night, instead of making love, Emily gently washed his hands and put salve on them. And she decided that she would never let Charlie hurt himself like that again.
The next day, while they were in town buying supplies, Emily secretly bought Charlie a pair of work gloves. They were strong, well-made leather gloves that would not only protect Charlie's hands but his lower arms too. Emily paid $5.00 for them.
That evening, after dinner, Emily gave Charlie the gloves. At first Charlie was angry that Emily had paid so much for them. $5.00 could buy a lot of things they needed. Emily was insistent however that she would never again allow Charlie to hurt his hands the way he had, and she eventually won Charlie over, just as she always did.
The following day Emily woke up feeling ill. With Charlie's help she did her best to struggle through her daily routine of cleaning their little home and making meals, but by 7 p.m. she was exhausted and took to bed. The day after that she felt even worse and couldn't get out of bed at all.
For the next several weeks Emily continued to get worse. Three months to the day after Emily bought Charlie the work gloves she died. By that time Charlie had sold almost everything they owned to pay for her medical care and to buy medicine. He'd barely manged to hang on to the house itself, and that only because he was determined to do so until Emily passed.
Emily had always seemed to possess a sixth sense about things, knowing how they would turn out, and Charlie had learned to listen to her. The first time they met she predicted they would be married and she had been right. One night, in tears, she had predicted that they would be childless, although she had no real reason to think so. She been right about that too. When Charlie had started selling off their possessions to pay for her medical care one of the first things he'd wanted to sell had been the work gloves. He had never worn them so should be able to get at least $4.00 for them. $4.00 would buy a lot of medicine. Emily had refused to allow Charlie to sell the gloves however, telling him that one day he would need them.
Charlie took the gloves out of the treasure box and examined them closely. They looked as good as new. As well they should, he had never worn them, he had never gotten the chance.
Was he really considering giving them to the Chinaman ?
Well, why not, it looked like Emily had been wrong for once, he hadn't needed them after all.
Posted by OldGuy at 11:22 PM | Comments (3)
A Chuck E. Cheese Portrait
We went to Kingston the other day and of course we had to stop at Chuck E. Cheese's as we always do. And as we also always do, we got one of those Chuck E. Cheese pictures.
So here are the kids as rendered by that master artist Chuck E. Cheese.
Posted by OldGuy at 4:30 PM | Comments (2)