Sunday, March 18, 2012

Just a Story

Christopher Ralph, given to public domain
by author, sourced from Wiki
Do you like stories?  I have a story that reflects me back to who I am and reminds me how much my husband knew who I was.  Sometimes reflections come from nowhere and usually there is a reason.

Many years ago I worked in a public place, in a small bar, in a small town and a predominant ethnic group of which I am not.  A man came into the small bar, of the same ethnicity but perceived by many as different and foreign as I.

What intrigues me is the scene prior to my stepping in.  As I did not witness the show.  So, to me it is but a story.  This man middle aged at that time, rather handsome, walked into the bar and had offered my female coworker, a necklace.  Story goes he told her he wanted a sexual favor and when denied, he asked for a free drink.  The place was in an uproar, many many very large men.  He was thrown out.  A fair maiden, rescued from the grips of an evil dragon.

My shift, I had no idea what took place.  Against all odds, against the might of many many large men, and into the mouth of name calling whipping his the pride of his ethnicity, walked up to me with a necklace in his hand. A simple necklace.  Old.  Having a hardened leather thong and a single large piece of turquoise,  The place started to go into an uproar once again to save the fair maiden from the evil dragon.  The fair maiden prior to me was yelling in chant and saying I better not serve him.  Beyond all confusion and mayhem I held up my hand and said, "Just let me listen."

He said I want no drink.  I need you to wear this.  The men started stirring.  He looked around nervously, but continued.  I said to him, "Why do you 'need' me to wear this?"

His story:  My brother.  For my brother, he was last seen in, we'll say Timbuktu a town just below, and he was traveling to see the state, but we lost contact in Timbuktu.  My brother always kept in touch with me and my parents.  I am here from a land far away.  When we were kids we found this stone and split it, he has the other piece.  He travels to businesses such as here.  If he comes in I want him to know I am looking for him.  He will see this and know and ask you."

I took the necklace from him and the crowd enraged.  He left.  I put the necklace on.  I felt I should for a brothers love.  What if his story is true?  After all, it was his story not mine.

I proceeded with my shift and catching the rocks as they flew at me.  Rocks such as "you're giving him a free drink after we leave."  No, apparently, that will not be an issue.  The fair maiden threw another stone, "He's going to hide outside and rape you when you are leaving."  No I don't fear that as you've drawn my attention to it.  A simple call to the wonderful officers, they'll turn their lights on as I get into my car.  No problems. Another stone, "He's a liar it isn't the right stone, he lies."  What does it matter, I did not receive a gift.

The final stone, "Then why are you wearing it, why did you do this?"  Ah, because I heard his story and felt compassion.  Silence.  The stones stopped and one person said, so..what is his story?  Why would you care you would not listen.

Finally an hour before closing, one man in particular sat, the entire night, would not leave and go with friends even.  Concern was the reason.  I told him the story.  He left.  He also was the one who started the pride whipping. I hope someday he remembers this.

I return home and my husband greets me.  He got a funny look on his face and said what is this?  I smiled and said a necklace and told him the story.  He hugged me and gave me a kiss.  He said that is why I love you.  All for a brother's love huh.  Yes.

The end.

1 comment:

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