A Revealing Short Story

The  Cruel Spring and the Simple Passage of Time

                                         By Pete Schulte

It was late afternoon when I ducked into a bar I went to every now then. It was nothing fancy, just a place to have a beer or two if I had the time. I usually kept to myself and didn't see many familiar faces. But this day was different.

I recognized a guy sitting at the end of the bar and could see that he knew me as well. It was Randy Perkins. He was an old classmate a few years ahead of me. I gave a slight wave and reluctantly went down to meet him. “You didn't have to come over, Michael,” he said to me right off. It was always difficult with Randy Perkins…

Since I did come over he glumly offered the barstool next to him. I glumly accepted it. “So, how are you, Randy?” I asked him.

“Very well. Hey, why don’t I buy you a drink? You weren't so bad back then. You weren't so good either, but hey, I’ll still buy you a drink.”

“Thanks, Randy.”

Randy Perkins was known those years ago as a skinny oddball freak who dared to be different when being different could get you hurt. The other older kids had it in for him, a seething hatred and were just looking for an excuse. One day he gave them one.

I was hanging out with my buddies in a loose circle on our BMX bikes. Spring was everywhere but we had nothing better to do. Just then Jeremiah Roop rode up to us in breakneck speed before skidding to a halt. “Hey guys, guess what? The big kids caught Perkins in the park! He was picking flowers without his pants on. They've got him cornered. Let’s go!”

We raced to the park as fast as we could pedal. A guy caught picking flowers without his pants on? That was good stuff for bored kids. At the park we stopped and listened for any commotion in the dense brush. Finally we heard random shouts and laughter and found the older kids surrounding a large oak tree deep within the park. We quietly gathered behind the others and searched the giant oak for any sign of Randy. Sure enough he was up there, bare-assed as described by Jeremiah. “Get down here now, Perkins!” yelled Tony Crane, their tough guy leader. “Take your punishment!”

“Leave me alone!” Randy hollered back.

“Down here!” Tony commanded. “I’m afraid your flower picking days are over.”

Randy didn't budge, and it wasn't long before rocks and dirt clods started flying up to his perch within the branches. He didn't last long. We listened as the sick thud of rocks struck his paper-thin body, and suddenly branches were splitting and Randy Perkins landed with a hard thump on the ground. He didn't move a muscle, half of him naked and covered with welts and blood. We all thought he was dead. The older kids scattered without a word and so did we. It was Jeremiah Roop who finally stopped us from fleeing the scene. “Wait,” he said. “We can’t leave him like that. Let’s find some grown-ups. Let’s get him some help.”

With Jeremiah leading the way, we eventually found some construction guys to tell, and not long after we heard the sirens begin to wail. Help was on the way for Randy Perkins, and here I probably would have just pedaled away with the others if not for Jerry Roop. It hurt to face him, this Randy Perkins. It always did. “Randy,” I said to him, “how did you come back from all that?”

“From all what?”

“You know, the thing in the park…with the flower picking and the tree.”

“Oh, that,” he said. “Well, it was hard at first, especially the next few days at school.”

Randy Perkins was back in school the very next day after his fall from the tree. In those days you didn't miss much school -- for any reason. Kids would come by your house, and if you weren't projectile vomiting or bleeding profusely from the anus, you went to school. The thought was, if I have to get my ass to school, then your ass is going to be there as well.

“But you know, Michael, the best thing to happen after the tree thing was the simple passage of time. Other things happen in life. The world spins on. I mean, it was big news when you yourself took those pills and went down. It was big news…for about a week. Then we all went on our way. It’s sad to think about it like that, so you just stop thinking about it at all.”

“But what about you, Randy? Here you've done so well for yourself. I want to follow your example. You don’t seem to let the past creep in at all.”

“Michael, I will tell you this: I still love to pick flowers, and for that matter I like not wearing any pants. And anyone who has a problem with that can kiss my mother-fucking ass. How’s that for burying the past?”

The end.