Thursday, September 16, 2010

Two Tales

Mr. Williams, a Native American carver sat on a busy corner in downtown Seattle appearing oblivious to traffic and passersby. He was absorbed in the beautiful piece of Madrona he was carving, as close to happy as he'd been in years. The knife, a gift from his uncle  on the celebration of his 14th year.The wood cost him half a bottle of Thunderbird. It is beautiful and he knows it was worth it.
A patrolman noticing Williams became concerned as the corner would soon be even busier.
"Hey buddy, what ya working on?" Williams looked up. Was someone talking to him? sometimes focusing was not easy, did he take his meds?
The patrolman puts a hand on his shoulder and helps him up.He walks him to a  nearby corner and points down the way at the entrance to a park. Tells him about shade and benches. He helps him put the knife in it's sheath and the wood and knife in his backpack.
Williams does smile now, as he heads down the block.
He feels good. He made a new friend.

A patrolman sees a man "brandishing" a knife as he sits on a busy downtown corner.
The cop  identifies himself and pulls his revolver. " drop that weapon!'
Williams looks up. someone is yelling. Is he looking at him?
"Drop that weapon.
Williams looks at his carving knife. Does he mean this?
He turns to ask him a question, to ask if he means his tool, his carver? But his brain exp;odes into red rockets falling into black embers then black only.
Mr Williams is gone.
He never knew why.