Flashlights - Day 5
Man, am I glad its Saturday. I would have hated to have to go to work today.
“Hey Johnny. You still asleep. Wake up, man, its almost noon.”
Johnny stirred, and then peeked out from under the blanket. He had pulled it completely over his head sometime during the night. I didn’t know if it was to block out the rising sun or the flashlights. I didn’t really care. I had the answer he needed.
“Did you see them Joe?” Johnny asked softly, hopefully.
“See what, Johnny?”
I knew exactly what he was talking about. I knew that I should tell him the truth – that we could then bond closer as brothers and work this all out together. I could see in Johnny’s eyes how desperately he wanted – he needed me to have seen the flashlights. But …
“The lights Joe. The flashlights. Did you see the flashlights?”
I started to blurt out some smart-aleck comment but decided to be straight.
“No Johnny, I didn’t see any flashlights.” Straight with my lie, that is.
Johnny’s face dropped almost completely off his head. He continued laying on the couch, but didn’t move a muscle. The blanket was still up around his neck.
I walked slowly into the kitchen, yelling back “Breakfast?”
I was just pouring the milk on my cereal when I heard the door close – Johnny was gone.
Why hadn’t I told Johnny about the flashlights I had seen? Well, do you remember when I told you about how I handle things I don’t understand?
I did that with the flashlights last night. I just sat down and waited. Funny thing was they didn’t go away, and I never got tired. I just stared and stared at them as they swam around in my head. And I like it.
If I had told Johnny I had seen them, then he would have wanted to talk about them, share our experiences. I didn’t want to share my experience at all. I wanted to keep my experience all to my self.
----
Much, Much Later
If I was a deeper thinker, I might see a real irony in this whole story. I might see that my brother was finally driven crazy after searching for complete nothingness. And I was driven crazy by watching complete fullness -- well as full as 124 flashlights can fill be.
It was nice they put us in the same hospital. Johnny’s over there, asleep, been asleep since right after his visit at my place.
And here I sit, staring out the window, strapped to the wheelchair, waiting for nighttime when my flashlights come back. All 124 of them.
“Hey Johnny. You still asleep. Wake up, man, its almost noon.”
Johnny stirred, and then peeked out from under the blanket. He had pulled it completely over his head sometime during the night. I didn’t know if it was to block out the rising sun or the flashlights. I didn’t really care. I had the answer he needed.
“Did you see them Joe?” Johnny asked softly, hopefully.
“See what, Johnny?”
I knew exactly what he was talking about. I knew that I should tell him the truth – that we could then bond closer as brothers and work this all out together. I could see in Johnny’s eyes how desperately he wanted – he needed me to have seen the flashlights. But …
“The lights Joe. The flashlights. Did you see the flashlights?”
I started to blurt out some smart-aleck comment but decided to be straight.
“No Johnny, I didn’t see any flashlights.” Straight with my lie, that is.
Johnny’s face dropped almost completely off his head. He continued laying on the couch, but didn’t move a muscle. The blanket was still up around his neck.
I walked slowly into the kitchen, yelling back “Breakfast?”
I was just pouring the milk on my cereal when I heard the door close – Johnny was gone.
Why hadn’t I told Johnny about the flashlights I had seen? Well, do you remember when I told you about how I handle things I don’t understand?
“So I did what I usually do when I’m faced
with something I don’t understand. I just sat down and waited.
Usually this ends in one of two ways, either what I don’t understand just goes
away, or I get tired of sitting and walk away.”
I did that with the flashlights last night. I just sat down and waited. Funny thing was they didn’t go away, and I never got tired. I just stared and stared at them as they swam around in my head. And I like it.
If I had told Johnny I had seen them, then he would have wanted to talk about them, share our experiences. I didn’t want to share my experience at all. I wanted to keep my experience all to my self.
----
Much, Much Later
If I was a deeper thinker, I might see a real irony in this whole story. I might see that my brother was finally driven crazy after searching for complete nothingness. And I was driven crazy by watching complete fullness -- well as full as 124 flashlights can fill be.
It was nice they put us in the same hospital. Johnny’s over there, asleep, been asleep since right after his visit at my place.
And here I sit, staring out the window, strapped to the wheelchair, waiting for nighttime when my flashlights come back. All 124 of them.
posted by Jimmie C. | 6:13 AM
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