I was inspired to write a little Tale...
Some of us in this life are lucky in a way that is marvelous and is hard to explain to those who have no such connection in their lives. What I am speaking of is childhood friend who has grown with you over the years, even when distance demands, and never does it seem the conversation has ever stopped. For me, this friend, a brother as true as any, has been there now all these years through thick and thin and I am lucky to have him. During this horror we are all living through right now, this pandemic, I recently had the scare of his positive test and subsequent illness. His mother as well, aged as she is, has pulled through and as I write this, tears streak my face. I have almost lost him too many times now and damnit, some friendships are worth it. 17 years ago this month (actually in 9 days), I gave him a kidney. He is my brother and those with such friendships will understand. Those who don't, I don't know what to say.
Right around the time I was finishing "The Golden Hawk", the Gods of Inspiration decided to come and pay me a provocative visit. This pal of mine gave me a call to ask if he could come up from the beautiful desert oasis of Tucson to go camping up on the property here in Howells. Absolutely and when did he want to come? Just let me known and I'll get my little girl down to her mom's and... you're bring her? And who? Uh, YES! Let me know the date!
See, little back story on me and my friend. He is a shining star wherever he goes, making friends with everyone in a straight-forward and friendly way. I am a specter haunting the edges of crowds or slipping through unseen and when the light does hit me and my voice is heard, I am accused of being "intense" (that's the word my friend says is the most often used by others). His social ease and a bit of boredom had him somehow connecting with a classmate from our old high school, one who went back to middle school with me. I know why too... I mean, not just because he is a naturally easy where I am tense (he seeks out women to speak to and I pass out when spoken to) but because in the years since I had last seen this very plain, quiet and mousy classmate of mine, something seriously whowza happened. With a hint at who my date was to be, my next story began as soon as "The Golden Hawk" was completed.
This is the story of that date. I could not use my name or that of my friend or the two ladies accompanying, but I knew who I could use. See, I had me a little history. A long time ago back when I was trying to fight my way through college as a single dad working, I took a few writing courses. For one, the focus of my studies had been angling more to the written word as it was specifically because that was something that you did not need to buy chemicals for or lab time or constantly replacing supplies. Instead, it allowed for as much creativity as needed without requiring anything more than a pad and a pen... and weed and beer if you really wanted some chemicals. These courses though, the ones distinct from the media based studies I was focused on, were some of my favorites and the writing courses I would take occasionally after that just because I needed something, anything, have always been my favorite.
Back in the early 1990s when telephones still had cords and stores still stocked replacements as a staple, I wrote a few little stories in those classes I took. Each year I made sure I took at least one such if I couldn't each semester. Each course I did take produced at least one gem and one flat stinker with degrees between. Those that were gems were all focused upon faux-memories of someone not too different from me. You know, standard retrospective stuff from just a few years distant fictionalized and disguised in characters who are not you and those in your sphere but are elements of you and those in your sphere. The good ones were pretty darn good and I have them all still... but one, the first and the most infamous. I have no remaining hard copies of it and have scoured old boxes of 3 1/2 inch floppy drives to no avail. I have found, in very well kept order, a 5 1/4 inch floppy with a label reading "Roaches" but come on man! I mean, how the hell am I supposed to get what is on there off? I'm going crazy here!
While the secondary cast extended into a small circle in these early stories, two characters were dominant with one being the primary POV through them. There was one story with an agnostic POV, but primarily it was one sided. That was the POV I took here as well because, well, consistency even after all this time must be retained, gosh darn it. I will also say these two are and are not me and my friend and while POV determination places my friend in that position based on the invite mentioned which spawned this story, there is no significance there. These two I haven't seen in decades and it was just nice to see them again and let them tell me a little about themselves.
Now if you want, I can draw you a map on how to take this little trip, or at least the areas that retain their cartography under the eyes in the sky. It's really hard to spot that turnoff. But of the civilized roads? It's a nice day trip and if you're with someone special, trust me, those little cabins are kinda cozy. That said, it is always a good idea to carry water with you when you are out in the Arizona desert. When tragedies do occur out here in this desert, it is the lack of that very lubricant of life which is often the culprit.
"Before I Ask For More Water" is a very nice little story. Seriously, it's nice and perfectly themed as a tale of old friends and new possibilities... until they come upon the young woman washing stained vestments with the dust of the dry creek. This is an uncharacteristic Tale in a few ways, the tempo presented and changed as it is providing the chance to throw such a curve. This is all I shall say here of "Before I Ask For More Water" beyond that it is my 40th Tale, finished on March 27 of 2019 and is 3,542 words long.
I'll also say that it was refreshing to work so lightly even if the break was fated. As for that date, it never took place. Between four busy adult schedules and a couple hundred miles distance and then the withdrawing of our social selves... but it was a nice little vacation in my mind, that I will say. I had a good time, that is, until we needed water...
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