the dead man - 7. story time

by >nick nelson

part seven of 31

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the kindergarten class had two teachers. ms johnson, who was kind of old - older than lily mae - and ms williams, who was really old. ms johnson often read stories to the children, mostly girls, who wanted to listen to them. lucas often joined the story group. it was a good way to not have to talk to the other children more than he absolutely had to. the stories did not make a lot of sense to him. here is a typical one of ms johnson’s stories, at least as it was filtered through lucas’s brain. then again, maybe he got two or three stories mixed up. once upon a time there was an old woman who lived on a hill. she had a duck and a cow and a pig, but most of all she had an oven. the oven was on all the time, baking pies. the pies were for an ogre who lived on the other side of the hill. if he did not get his pies every day he threatened to eat the duck and the cow and the pig. the old woman spent all her time tending to the roaring oven and grinding flour, and the duck and the cow and the pig spent theirs gathering grain to grind, and berries and herbs and apples to put in the pies. in this they were sometimes assisted by a wandering shepherd boy who was as free as a bird, and left the village for days and weeks at a time, and returned like the wind whenever it suited his free fancy. he always wore a big hat, which covered most of his face it was a hard life, but sometimes they gathered around the fire at night under the stars, and sang songs. if the shepherd boy was on hand he would play his flute. one night they were all gathered around the fire, singing a happy song, which went something like this: good players play good cards happy dogs play in happy yards happy people live in happy towns as long as the bridges don’t fall down sad people drink weak tea but they are just as good as you or me nice people throw bums a dime and always pay their bills on time suddenly a shadow fell across the happy group and they stopped their song and looked up. it was the ogre! why, mister ogre, exclaimed the old woman, you are not usually abroad at this hour. next

the dead man - 6. school

by nick nelson

part six of 31

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when the time came, lucas went to school, to kindergarten. lily mae brought him to the school to the first day, but after that he just went by himself. lucas had never had much contact with other children before, and did not much enjoy school. in the school he went to the children could either go home for lunch or bring a lunch with them, and lucas preferred to go home and not have to associate with the other children more than he could help. in this, as in most things, lily mae indulged him. lily mae continued to sleep late, but she was usually up by the time lucas returned for lunch. “how do you like school?” she asked him one day. “it’s all right, i guess.” this was, and would remain, lucas’s answer for almost all questions put to him by his fellow humans, old or young, but especially to the questions put to him by anybody in any semblance of authority. by this time he had forgotten his friendships with bugs, but he missed joe the dog. joe had been a good dog, and a good friend. later in life, lucas would refer to joe as a “real pal”, and “the greatest there ever was”. next

the dead man - 5. joe

by nick nelson

part five of 31

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mrs johnson enjoyed watching lucas playing and daydreaming in the little yard, and was always disappointed when he tired of doing so and wandered off down the street on his travels. the first friend his own size that lucas made was a dog named joe. that was the owner’s name for the dog but lucas was not to know it for some time - about a week. joe was a big dog, and easy to get along with. joe’s owner was a man named lester jackson, known as “big les” to his co-workers and friends, because he was so big. he really was not as big as all that. when strangers saw him walking down the street, they did not stop and stare at him and say or think, what a big guy. nevertheless he was known as “big les” to his fellow workers at the mill. he was a pretty ordinary guy and most people liked him well enough. joe was les’s dog, and he ran around during the day when les was working at the mill. there was a park in the center of town across the street from city hall, and dogs hung out there. dogs that had no homes or owners, and dogs that ran free during the day, like joe. the boss dog was blackie, and he ran wild. his number two was a dog named chester, who slept most nights in a dog house n the back yard of bert robinson, the long time bartender at mike’s tavern, a favorite hangout of the local politicians and newspapermen. blackie and chester did not care much for joe, for reasons best understood by themselves, and made him feel unwelcome at the park. joe sought companionship elsewhere, among small owned dogs, cats, and small humans like lucas. > joe was a good dog. just about everybody in the world execpt blackie and chester liked him. lucas especially liked him. because joe was a good dog. next

the dead man - 4. the wanderer

by nick nelson

part four of 31

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when lucas grew a little older, he learned to walk, and he roamed the earth as free as gilgamesh, or buddha, or robin hood. lily mae usually slept late - until noon at least. lucas would get up, and feed himself. usually on yahoo chocolate drink, and crackers. saltines or ritz crackers or graham crackers. he did not think of this as “breakfast”, or have any word for it. then he would go outdoors and set out on his travels. the town lily mae and lucas lived in was not subject to violent winters, although it did rain a lot. nor did it ever get ferociously hot, except perhaps once every two or three years. so lucas, in his days of freedom, always went out “rain or shine”. of course, in the great scheme of things, his days of freedom did not last that long. but perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. lucas’s first day of freedom was a bright day in may. the clouds which never completely left the sky were higher than usual and the tops of the mountains, which the clouds usually obscured, were outlined clearly against the blue sky. but lucas was not interested in the sky, or the mountains. his eyes were on the ground. the first creature he encountered was a beetle wandering in the grass in the tiny patch of “yard” outside the house. he watched the beetle for fifty-four minutes, until it finally wandered out of the “yard” and on to the sidewalk. lucas carried on a conversation - mostly a monologue on his part - with the beetle, in a language he remembered from one of his millions of past lives. the beetle occasionally replied, but in a short concide manner, simply answering the questions lucas put to it. the beetle was the first friend lucas ever had, but he never even knew his name. * old mrs johnson looked down on lucas from her second floor porch. the little house lily mae and lucas lived in had two floors. luly mae and lucas lived on the first floor and mrs johnson and her sister miss miller lived on the second floor. mrs johnson took an interest in lucas’s and lily mae’s existence. miss miller did not. after watching lucas watch the beetle for about twenty minutes - during which time mrs johnson did not realize lucas was talking to the beetle - mrs johnson went inside and reported what she had seen to miss miller, but miss miller did not express any interest in what mrs johnson had seen. neither mrs johnson nor miss miller remembered talking to bugs or birds in their early years. but mrs johnson enjoyed leaning over the rail and watching lucas and began doing so on a regular basis. much as she had, as a child, enjoyed sitting beside the river and watching it flow. next

the dead man - 3. mrs wilkinson

by nick nelson

part three of 31

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“do you know where you are, miss?” mrs wilkinson commenced, almost politely, with only a hint of steel in her voice. “yes, i do, ma’am,” lily mae quickly answered. “and i am sorry, and i realize i should not be here. my mind must have been wandering, i guess.” mrs wilkinson’s manner was not softened by lily mae’s admission. “i believe i have seen you before, miss. from my windows. was your mind wandering on those occasions, also?” “yes, ma’am, it must have been. i will try not to let it happen again, i promise.” “you promise to try not to let it happen again? i am afraid that is not good enough, my dear. i will tell you what will be good enough. you will turn around right now and make your way down the hill. if you come back, under any circumstances, with or without your unfortunate looking offspring, we have ways in this town, and i am not referring to the sheriff’s office, to make sure you do not return. i will be even clearer - you will find your fucking lowlife ass in a bag in the bottom of the river. do you understand?” “yes, ma’am,” lily mae replied meekly. she was not surprised by mrs wilkinsion’s forthright language. having extensive acquaintance of the male members of the town’s upper crust, she was well aware that the leading citizens of the town, among themselves, expressed themselves as freely as the bums and hoboes who slept in the park, and down by the tracks. little lucas, who had been paying the closest attention to the exchange between the two women, was somewhat perplexed by mrs wilkinson’s reference to his person as “unfortunate looking”. in what way was he “unfortunate looking”? as if reading his thoughts, mrs wilkinson now pointed to lucas. “that child - it looks, as pastor franklin might put it, to have a touch of the tarbrush about it. or to put in good old-fashioned english, it looks like a fucking negro.” “oh no, ma’am, i am as white as the queen of england, or as jean harlow.” “i don’t doubt that, my dear. but what about the child’s father? is he listed in burke’s peerage? or even in who’s who in america? hmmm?” and with that mrs wilkinson took her leave, and lily mae turned the stroller around and headed directly down the hill. lucas was left with two things by the episode. first, with a burning desire to tear down existing society, based as it was on privilege and oppression, and to replace it with one based on justice and equality. he would never lose this desire. and second, with the question of whether he was or was not a “negro”. this question would never be answered. next

the dead man - 2. lily mae

by nick nelson

part two of 31

to read part one, click here

the dead man’s name was lucas jackson. he had not always been a derelict whose physical presence his fellow humans found unpleasing. he was born in a little town in a mountainous area where it rained a lot and the sun did not shine so much. his mother was the town tramp. his father was a railroad man. lucas’s mother’s name was lily mae. she sincerely wanted to be a good mom but the hours required by the profession which fate had thrust upon her often made this difficult. on days when lily mae was able to get up before four in the afternoon, and it was sunny outside or at least not raining too hard, she would put little lucas in a little stroller which had belonged to her own mother and in which lily mae herself had ridden as a child, and roll him up and down the streets, but not down the main street where she plied her ancient trade in the evening. sometimes, when lily mae’s mind was wandering a little bit, and she was thinking of long ago happy days or of happy days which had only existed in her imagination or in her dreams, she would inadvertently venture with her stroller up thr hilll and into the streets on which were located the houses of respectable citizens. the occupants of these streets were not happy when lily mae did this. one day lily mae was pushing little lucas in his stroller past a colossal sloping green lawn fronting the one hundred room mansion that had belonged to the morris family - the richest family in town - for hundreds of years, when she was halted in her tracks by mrs roberta wilkinson, who was the third richest woman in town, the second most respectable, and the mother of the mayor. mrs wilkinson was alone, unaccompanied by any of her servants, toadies, or fellow town matriarchs. before addressing lily mae she looked around to make sure that they were alone and that her words would not be overheard. next

the dead man - 1. celia

by nick nelson

part one of 31

the smelly guy who talked to himself had dropped dead in the street, and people were standing around pretending to care. celia was on her way to the library. she started to ask if anybody had called 911, but then she heard someone say, “they should be here by now,” so she continued on her way and went around the corner and entered the library. she went past the front desk and into the reading room. nobody was sitting in “her” seat at the long table, so she took it. she took a black mead composition book out of her backpack and placed it on the table in front of her. celia had planned to begin writing the novel she had decided to write for extra credit in her english class. she had been going to write it about her hopeless infatuation with johnny brown, but now she thought she might write it about the dead smelly guy who talked to himself. julia came in and sat down at the table across from celia. not directly across, but across. julia was also writing a novel for extra credit, and had already started hers. julia ranked much higher in the universe than celia, who was a total geek and ranked near the very bottom. julia had friends, and was sometimes allowed to speak to the gods and goddesses in the highest echelons of the student body pecking order. julia would talk to celia when they were the only two students in the library, but made it very clear that celia was not to approach her or speak to her otherwise. “did you see the dead guy outside?” celia asked julia. “are you serious? what dead guy? where?” “out on mason st.” “oh. i came in from the parking lot.” did she think i walked over? julia wondered. “anybody we know?” “the smelly guy who hangs outside and talks to himself.” “there’s more than one.” “the one, you know, with a black hat with a yellow “p” on it.” “oh, him. a very dreary specimen.” “i thought i might write my novel about him,” celia said. as she said it it sounded really stupid. “whatever. do what you got to do.” julia began taking things out of her backpack, dismissing celia. next