Circles (Part 1)

Circles (Part 1)

One time long ago, lived a man who traveled the land. He never made a point of staying in one place for too long of time; didn’t want to become too acquainted with the local fare. Something he considered a weakness, and this he tried to avoid. Occasionally he faltered, and thus he has come to the point where there are three or four so-called “disciples” that follow him from town to town. Mind you, he normally gets the jump on them in the early morning, so he does get some time to himself, until they catch up. Funny thing is, not one of these followers has any idea what he is doing, or where he is going. He likes it this way, too. In fact, not one of them has ever said a word to him (maybe they just fear him, in-between the suspected awe). They just keep turning up at each place he makes a stop. Sometimes he considers that they may well be escapees from some form of institution, which may or may not have dealt with the abnormal. Oh, well, as long as he ignores them, he figures that they will someday go away, or head in another direction, even if it is out of the boredom of following him to who knows where. Maybe someday he may even outsmart them by actually staying put in some little out of the way village. Wouldn’t that be funny? He did think this to himself, and actually gave out a small chuckle, which for him was an expenditure of sorts. Wonders what they would do then? Would they finally decide to move on, alone? He doubted it very much; in fact the thought was absurd. But it was a thought, and something he could contemplate for a long part of the up-coming road. Mmmm, yes it will help pass the time. Something of the King’s Gambit he leads himself to surmise, though he was not much of a chess player. Truth be known, he couldn’t play the game at all; he had just heard the term once, long ago, while watching two people move strange shapes around on a checkered board. For all intents and purposes, this appeared to be as boring as watching the grass grow along the river. No point at all, considering that the pieces were not free to move about as they pleased. Ah, they were only there for the pleasures of the higher powers, these being the two gentlemen that pushed them around, and back and forth, until at long last, one of them jumped up and yelled, “checkmate!” Goodness, what a spectacle he had seen that day, but that was so long ago and he had resisted watching this type of display from that day onwards. Now, the game of charades is almost in the same category, in as much that you get to use all the imagination you can muster, and then another let’s you down because they cannot grasp the simplicity of your actions. Misplaced dependency on another’s intellect is sometimes a very foolish thing. Oh well, time to get moving. Let’s see, shall he go left or right at this fork in the road? He wonders how the following will make the deduction of which way it is they should go, to once again catch up with me. The best chance he knows of, and the one with the least risk in this situation is, in fact, found out with the toss of a coin. But wait, that is most likely the way in which they will determine their direction. Therefore, he will go to the north, with no hesitation what-so-ever in the making of my decision. Yes, north it is. And of course, in terms of consideration of choices and the odds thereof, the very next morning, he saw the group sitting on the opposite corner of the street. As they always are, waiting for him to once again move on.

Second Circle (Part 2)

Now, a jalopy (well, some call it a “horseless carriage”) thunders by. This was new in this part of the woods, but he had heard talk of them before. Traveling in a metal contraption that made a lot of noise and spewed forth black, acrid smoke, as it rumbled down the road just didn’t appear, on the face of it, as a way to be crossing the countryside. But, on further contemplation, if one was in a rush to be wherever, then maybe it is not such a bad thing after all. Yes, there are two sides to every argument. He remained underneath the magnificent oak tree and, for now, was content to rest his weary legs and let the world pass him by. Recently his thoughts had been turning to that “little out of the way village”. A place of little population, of course that may in the end be just nice. “Just nice” were the operative words. What if it was “so-so” or “growing” or “slowly dieing”? Well, then what would one do? And, God forgive, what of the nosey neighbors or the town gossip? Would there be a fishmonger? Oh, yes, he had given up eating meat a long time ago. You see, he couldn’t shoot a gun (didn’t own one anyway) and he really had no inclination of retracing his footsteps in order to check traps. Pity, because he had enjoyed some of the countryside that he previously traveled through, but still not quite enough to honestly say that he would return, either by choice or by necessity. Wonder what the time is now? Must be getting old! Never had to ask himself that, just had to look at the sun or the stars and he knew. At last he thought to himself that maybe he should get himself one of those timepieces, a wind up. But, then, when he thinks more clearly about this, what does he care about time? Guess that certainly would be a waste of effort and money, as well as being just another object to carry around. No, too much additional weight. At his age it would be a waste of energy. Ah, feeling much better now and it’s time to move on. Entering the township, he could not help but see the group of four alighting from a jalopy, then moving down to position themselves on the most open, and obvious corner in the town. This was of grave importance to him, and took him by utter surprise. All of his contemplations (those contemplations that were so near and dear to him) seemed to be disappearing rapidly from his consciousness. What was left was but a most terrifying and spirit breaking thought, which made him feel most ill at ease: In such a short space of time in his actual existence, he was no longer the leader, he had become the follower!

Circle Complete (story 3)

He finally found his “little out of the way”place, and after some minor adjustments, settled into somewhat of a life without travel. Of course, his first priority had been to isolate himself, and his actions, from the nosey neighbors and the town’s three (count them!) gossips. This took longer than he had anticipated, but in the end, the stand was understood on both sides, and this is what is meant by finding the middle ground. Goodness, what some people do to either fill in their day or to simply amuse themselves. Pity it didn’t amuse others! Now, since finally settling down to some degree, his muses and contemplations had taken many varying directions, and he at long last began to put pen to paper. For what is prosperity if it won’t lend itself to what it was meant to be? Yes, the words for the coming generations. Maybe someone, somewhere, might gain a little insight or simple amusement from his words. That is all they are meant to be, just words. The interpretation thereof will lie with the reader. He did hope the reader would be over ten years old, although he tried hard to keep them understandable and simple. Never mind, it’s nearly time for lunch, and today he had an overwhelming urge for something different. What that was, exactly, he would figure out as he journeyed down to the shop. Yes, he did “journey” occasionally (about once per week), but only for essentials. Maybe today is the day for a treat of some sorts. Goodness, still the four, and though they have settled in to this new way of life, they continue to meet at the same corner everyday. Obviously waiting for his expected departure. Sometimes he sits opposite and amuses himself in terms of waiting for them to leave, since he, at one time, became the follower. Ha, what would they do then? More to the point, what would he do? Would he continue? Such a complicated consideration! You know, he probably would, just to discover their surprise. Mind you, he was not overly concerned with their traveling, and in the end, it quite amused him. Maybe he should invite them in for a cup of tea, which would actually allow them all to discover what it was that was driving them all those years. Those years that they just kept going to anywhere at all, for no apparent reason. But no! There are some things that are better left unsaid, and some mysteries that should be taken to the grave. And to speak to them, at long last? Ah, maybe. No! It is not yet the time to break this long-standing tradition. Now, for a glass or two of the good bourbon that is brewed down the lane, maybe a fine cigar, and then a nice piece of the monger’s fish. Then, time for a short nap, prior to continuing his more serious contemplations. Maybe today he may surprise himself, and not think at all. You know, this life is not so bad after all.

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