"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part Three

Angus and Benjamin enjoyed a moment of silent inner relief, Benjamin letting out an audible sigh, while Crispin lit his pipe.

“I daresay you’ve found him! Though depending on who you expect ‘him’ to be, it may or may not be me at all. Time will tell, I suppose.” His eyes glimmered at Benjamin as he paused to take his first billowing puff of the bittersweet-smelling tobacco. “So, traveled a good distance, you say? Whereabouts are you gentlemen from?”

“Jenningston,” Angus replied.

“Well, what’s left of it.” Benjamin added flatly under his breath.

“Jenningston! Hmm, I haven’t been through Jenningston in… now let me see here… “ He took another long drag on his pipe as he counted in his head. “…Well, a very, very long time.” He chuckled to himself. “From what I’ve heard it has become quite the booming little metropolis in the recent past. Well, that is, until--“ He paused mid-sentence, looking across the table.

As he spoke again, his voice lowered, and his next words struck Angus as deeply sincere, almost fatherly. “Well, there is nothing quite so disheartening as the loss of one’s home, is there? I am sorry.”

At this, Crispin set his pipe alongside his plate. “But do you know what I’ve always found to be an island of anchored hope in the midst of calamitous grief?” He picked up his fork. “Breakfast!” Just as another of the peppers on his plate burst into a tiny flame, he scooped it up and, blowing out the flame, took a large bite, eyes closed in blissful enjoyment.

The boys picked up their forks and continued to eat, not sure where the conversation would go from here. Once you’ve found your medicine man, what were you supposed to do with him? Were you to ask for healing? Or wait for him to offer? Would he perform some miraculous healing right there in the middle of the diner? Would he invite them into his… healing chambers?

Angus grew nervous again. “So those peppers you mentioned,” he said, “why won’t other places serve them? Are they too hot or something?”

Just then, Jenny returned to the table. Benjamin’s ears went pink under his shaggy dark brown hair. He didn’t look up.

“Oh, Jenny,” Crispin said, “Our young friend here would like to know if these peppers are hot.”

“Reapers?” Jenny laughed. “Well, let me put it this way. There are only two people I know who can even stand to touch the things. Crispin here, he gets them every day, and Oliver.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “He’s our dishwasher. He brings them in from his garden at home. They’re not even on our menu. Our cook has to wear a mask and rubber gloves just to cook them. We wouldn’t do it for anyone else,” she smiled. “Just Crispin.”

“And I am so thankful you do.” Crispin beamed back with a smile.

Angus felt Benjamin shift in the booth and clear his throat. “They couldn’t be that bad, though, could they?” Benjamin said, in a voice that Angus thought sounded unnaturally lower than his usual tone. “Could I try one, sir?”

“Ben, no.“ Angus saw what was coming. He knew his brother all too well. Rash, impulsive, though well meaning and deeply caring, Benjamin wasn’t one to think things through. He had once thought he heard a man hurling insults at their sister from inside the next door neighbor’s house. Before anyone could stop him, he had ripped off the screen and pried the locked window open with his bare hands. As it turned out, it was an old woman’s radio dramas playing at high volume.

Hoping to thwart what he knew would come next, Angus interjected. “He was just kidding, sir.”

“Oh, come on! Just a bite. I can take it. I mean, I love hot stuff.”

“Ahh, Benjamin, is it?” Jenny cut in. “They’re really strong, I’m not sure you’d--.”

But Benjamin was reaching his fork across the table. Angus felt him move and reached over to try to stop him. It was too late.

inner beauty pageant

her?

i beam

last night at
1 thirty
a m

i ran
i jumped
i grabbed
i beam

i flipped

and it was

awesome

A Toast Over War

With torch lit, you call out to the dark

Crying the proposition I am wrong

Strike true, wielding a troubling remark

Still can we not dance and sing along

Found in harmony harnessed we march

Hand in hand as stride finds stride

Conflict blossoms grace in the arch

Unity blooms in the death of pride

Forgotten qualms in barren tombs

Pressing on with the company of wisdom

Rest with peace nestled in the womb

Cry clearly, cry victory, cry freedom

Plagiarizing Sleep

There is a part of me that wants to splash
Someone else's thoughts
Across
         The
               Page.
My will is lacking the iron to
Carve quality from chunks of
Mediocrity.

Mostly it's just rust and metal slivers.

Perhaps I sleep so poorly
Because my dream self remembers
Sleeping as a newborn
Eyes
       Shut
               Asleep

And sleeping well now would be plagiarism.

four for Saturn's hours

i would rather golf
than paint for you
a clue
like a Haitian street
artist in sole-less
shoes.

i would rather shop
than fight for it
hard
like GSP with a sharp
ax kick to the solar
plexus.

i would rather shift
into the grey twilight
unaware
like a free spirited
nymph in a over dramatic
playonwords.

i would rather hate
a poem of mine
own
as Eeyore on
holiday in
Muscatine.

yet
(here i am and
not inspired.)

"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part Two

**NOTE: The main character's name has changed. Because it sucked before. "Shawn" is now "Angus".**

She just pointed at me! She looked over here and pointed at me!” Benjamin quietly panicked. “Dah! She’s coming over here. Act cool, act cool!” Jenny’s footsteps got closer and stopped at their table.

“HELLO,” Benjamin said a little too loudly, startling both Angus and Jenny, and perhaps himself.

“Uh, hi. The gentleman in the corner wanted me to let you two know that, uh, you shooould… ask him something?” Jenny struggled to remember, “and then get on with your day? Something like that. I don’t know, I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Angus replied, “Thank you very much.” He heard her walk away and the kitchen door swing open and shut.

Benjamin was breathing heavily.

 “Wow… how could he hear us? We were practically whispering.” They were now faced with the prospect of approaching a potentially powerful old man who knew they’d been talking about him and who may or may not be quite unhappy about it. Angus took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess this is it. Want to lead me over there? I’ll do the talking.”

With another glance back toward the kitchen door, Benjamin stood up, collected his ice water in one hand and placed the other under Angus’s forearm to guide him.

“Why are we walking so slowly?” Angus asked.

“I’m nervous!” Benjamin whispered. “If it really is him, I- well, I’ve never talked to a medicine man before, what if he doesn’t like us disrupting his breakfast? He’s got powers, you know! He can… do stuff!” Their steps were still short and slow, like an old woman shuffling along in her slippers to nowhere in particular. “And if it isn’t him I’m going to look like an idiot in front of that waitress!”

“Not sure you can help that, pal.”

“Shut up or I’ll walk you into a wall.”

They finally reached the corner booth and stopped, but before they could introduce themselves, the old man, without looking up from his paper, said, “I do hope you like omelets.” Benjamin noticed that there were three plates set at the booth, each with a fresh, steaming omelet. There was a long pause as Benjamin waited for Angus to respond. “…Is that a no to the omelets, then?”

Benjamin elbowed Angus. “What?” Angus whispered.

“I thought you were going to do the talking!” Benjamin hissed under his breath.

“I will, just keep walking.” Angus had no idea they were now standing directly in front of the old man’s booth. “Wait, was he talking to us about the omelets just now?” Angus reached his hand forward and unexpectedly banged it on the table. Completely taken off guard, and feeling suddenly put on the spot, he stammered, “Oh! Hi! Hi there. Omelets, yes! Who doesn’t like omelets? Ha! I know I do! I mean, we do. We both do. A lot. Both of us. Uhhh…” He gulped hard. “Why do you ask, sir?”

The old man replied slowly, “Well, I’m certainly not going to eat all three…”

“There are three plates on his table,” Benjamin whispered in Angus’s ear.

“It’s true,” whispered the old man, leaning forward and including himself in their failed private conversation, “And you’re welcome to sit down and eat two of them. Though I think I’ll have the third, if you don’t mind.” He winked at Benjamin under his great brown-rimmed glasses and went back to his newspaper.

Benjamin let out a little nervous laugh as Angus’s hand found its way onto the booth seat. He slid into the booth as far as he could, until he was directly across from the sound of the rustling newspaper. Benjamin followed.

Both waited for the old man to speak first, or at least to look up from the comics section.

Finally Angus broke the silence. Nervous and dry-mouthed, he cleared his throat. “They smell delicious.”

“Just a moment, please.” He continued reading his newspaper. “Almost finished.” Benjamin and Angus sat motionless, now even more nervous to disturb the old stranger, and quite aware of the fact that they had already trespassed into his booth.

The moment felt like ages.

With one last snicker and a sigh of contentedness, the man folded his newspaper, set it on the table beside his plate, and continued, as though there had been no pause at all. “Yes! Yes, they are delicious. And the peppers here are always quite fresh.”

Benjamin looked down at his steaming omelet, which was covered in a thick layer of gooey cheddar cheese and bright green jalapenos. Then he looked across the table at the old man’s plate. Instead of the familiar green pepper, however, his was topped with a strange purplish-grey pepper. The eggs had char marks surrounding each little bit of the unfamiliar produce. As Benjamin stared, one of them suddenly burst into a tiny flame, like a trick birthday candle.

 “They’re very rare, these.” The old man patted out the little flame with the back of his fork. “And rather abrasive to more delicate pallets, I might add. It’s called the Capsicum Flamora, though locally I believe it’s called by The Reaper.”

Benjamin, still so nervous that he couldn’t find words for a reply, simply said, “Oh…. Mmmm.”

“Yes, ’Mmmm’ indeed. Well, dig in while they’re hot.” Angus reached his hand up to the table and felt for a fork next to his warm plate. He was still getting used to eating blindly, and an omelet was no easy task, especially with a nervously shaking hand. He found that the first bite he scooped up was far too big, and half of it fell into his lap. Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed the bits that had fallen and placed them on his napkin.

“My dear boy,” said the old man in a surprisingly warm tone, “you must be new to the world of the sightless. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir. Quite new.” Angus froze for a moment while he considered what to say, and decided this was as good a time as any to plunge right into the matter. “Sir, my name is Angus Olgram, and this is my brother, Benjamin. We traveled a good long ways to get here, because…” He gulped hard, set his fork back on the table and took a deep breath, “…because we were told we could find a medicine man here, a healer by the name of Crispin. Might that be…you?”

The old man's deep brown eyes darted quickly over to Benjamin, then panned slowly back toward Angus. The man scratched at his beard and leaned back. He pulled out a long dark wooden tobacco pipe without for a moment taking his eyes off of the boys.

The boys hung on the unbearable silence of the moment as though what came next would decided their existential fate.

Finally he raised his large grey eyebrows, shrugged his broad, slender shoulders and said,

“Tadaaa!”