I can’t rightly remember when it
was it exactly that I lost my ability
to pretend? Used to be as a young
and creative spirit I could transform
myself into anybody, anything I
wanted to be?
Why are you wearing that cowboy
hat with that cap pistol strapped
around your waist, an older kid
from the neighborhood asked me
one day? I’m Sheriff Wyatt Earp,
I dobbed the brim of my hat to let
him know I meant business.
And if you don’t believe it, I’ll
plug fulla holes right where you
stand. So, hot shot, where’s your
horse, he asked?. You got him tied
up at the livery stable, he
laughed smugly in disbelief.
He’s back at the ranch, I told
him. You ought to know, they
don’t allow horses on the
streets in the big city. Are you
stupid or somethin’, I asked?
His face turned angry, and he
slapped the cowboy hat right
off my head. Think you’re a
bad hombre, huh? I said picking
up my hat and putting it back on
my head. You’d better be out of
town by sundown or I’ll find you
and plug you fulla holes.
You’d better get outa my face
or I’ll kick your ass! he snapped
back at me. Oh yeah, I says? Yeah,
he says back.
One thing I learned at a very young
age is that discretion is the better
part of valor. I didn’t know what
that meant literally, but I figured
out that the odds were not in my
favor. That kid was bigger than I.
I’m gonna tell my dad on you, I
threatened him that day. I turned
around and went home. Dad wasn’t
back from work yet, so I changed
into my World War II soldier’s uni-
form instead.
To this day I wonder when it was
exactly I lost my ability to make
belief. Anyway, I’m pretty sure
some stupid older kid in my
neighborhood had something to
do with it.
-30-
Chris Hanch 2-17-2021
No comments:
Post a Comment