”Hey Mister James!” Ten year old Eric Samuel, from just down Clancy Lane, the one way street named for the very first family to build a house on the once dirt road leading out of the tiny town of Denver, North Carolina, yelled, then stopped and peered in at the sunlit porch of his old neighbor.
Ezra James, whose actual age had been possibly mentally forgotten by him or deceptively hidden from the knowledge of all other residents, was either sleeping in his Kennedy rocker, or was dead.
Eric was “sore afraid,” an expression he had picked up from Mr. James,…well, the boy feared that his very old friend was not asleep, but just looked that way.
Eric’s hands started to tremble, sorta like Mr. James’s wrinkled, but very warm hands often did.
Eric yelled again and leaned in a bit farther over the front yard, white, but needing paint, picket fence. Suddenly, Eric saw a hand move, then he spotted an arm go up and he breathed a long sigh, and just as he was about to say something, Ezra James yelled out in a strong clear voice…”Thought I was a goner did ya? Ha…well, not yet. Plenty more to do, plenty more! C‘mon in and sit a spell.”
Eric, having nothing to do besides trottin’ down to Mr. Shipley’s corner store to get a quarter pound of American cheese for his Mom to make grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, opened the gate and then quickly got outta the way as the heavy cannonball on the chain slammed it back shut.
“Did the gate gitcha?”
“No Sir. I was quick. That’s fourteen straight times I cleared it!”
“Good for you. What’s the record?” Ezra asked.
“Twenty nine!”
“Got a ways to go yet, but we’ll surely celebrate thirty! Grab a chair.” Ezra pointed to the nearest one.
“Now today we’ll continue on our lessons about bein’ old and bein’ a young boy in the town of Denver.”
“You first Mr. James.”
“Well, it’s important when you get to be older that you keep track of following’ your dreams and your heart, and how you are doin’ on both.”
“You mean like getting good grades at school?” Eric tried making a comparison.
“Yeah, except it’s you givin’ AND gettin’ the personal grades and you gotta be honest with yourself…always! That’s important.”
“Hmm, well, I don’t know about heart, but I still wanna be a major league ball player when I get older. Is the heart stuff some kinda code for likin’ girls or something?”
“Well, that will sort itself out, but it’s all accordin’ to how you feel about the world and your place in it.”
“The world’s not very big in Denver.” Eric said.
“No, but big league ballplayers have come from tinier towns than this one!”
“ARE there tinier towns than here?” Eric asked.
“Sure! You’ve got lots to learn, but I do too and that’s one of the great things about life. You can keep learning all the way through!”
“What have you learned today Mr. James?”
“Well, I learned that your “not getting’ hit by the gate record” is at 14, and I ain’t dead! I’d say that’s a real good start!”
Then E
The boy complied and Ezra clasped his hand with Eric’s and squeezed and shook it up and down.
“Ouch!” Eric was rubbing his hand after the handshake.
“A might too strong maybe, but never be a weak limp handshaker Eric. That’s important.”
“Who invented the handshake Mr. James?”
“Not sure anybody knows, but it was a great long time ago.”
“I bet it started with cavemen. One guy had some food in his hand, and another caveman from a rival cave tried to snatch it out for himself and they grabbed hands; one trying to take it and one trying to keep it, until they both decided to split the food and become friends!”
“Well, Eric, if that ain’t the best explanation to the beginin’ of shakin’ hands, I don’t know of one!”
Then Ezra rocked back and said “So now teach me about bein’ a modern boy!”
“Well, it isn’t easy. Not by a long stretch!” (that expression, he had also picked up from Ezra and felt that it was the perfect place to put it into a sentence) I mean, you aren’t in charge of anything, not even your toys. And you’re shorter than most all
“And they make you eat food that’s good for you instead of food that tastes good, and you have to finish all of it, and also watch them eating whatever they want and as little of it or as much as they want!”
“And bedtime is always 9:00 and they stay up until all hours and I hear them laughing and enjoying everything and it keeps me awake sometimes!”
“Now calm down Eric, don’t get too riled up. The best thing about it is you’re young and when you grow up you can do whatever you want, within the law of course.” Ezra smiled at Eric.
“I know, but time goes too slow and I want to be an adult right now!” Eric folded his arms to his chest and looked very unhappy.
“Tell you what. “You be me and I’ll be you for ten minutes. Whadaya say?” Ezra suggested.
“Ok.” Ezra stood and went to the rocker.
“Oh I gotta get up?”
“Of
course, you’re the kid and I’m the ol…ah…adult!”
“Would
you be kind enough to go get me a cold coke outta the fridge young
man?” Eric said in a crackly voice.
“Do I really sound like that?” Ezra asked as he hobbled through the front screen door and went to the kitchen and got two cokes and slowly made his way through the house and back to the porch.
“Thanks, but you can‘t have a coke until you eat all of your supper young man!” Ezra admonished.
“Well, Ok.” Ezra laughed, but he enjoyed being referred to as “Young man!” and he watched Eric gulp down, and thoroughly enjoy, his soda.
“Your ten minutes are up! Now get outta my chair boy!” and they both laughed and resumed their places on the sunny porch and Ezra drank his coke.