Photo of the author David Burrowes
Photo by Joel Harvey
“Aaah! What are you doing? Idiot! What the hell is wrong with
you?
I can’t believe that you are frigging doing that here and now to me.
Don’t you care about anybody else? Are you drunk or on crack? Are you out of
your freeking mind?!!”
Likely
yes, Sheldon thought. He grabbed the top of his own head and shook it around but
it stayed on. Saliva was dripping down his lips onto his neck. His retinas had
an orangeness about them and steam was escaping from his nostrils. His dog was
shaking and whining at a high decibel.
Sheldon’s eyes were shining lasers. If he turned them up on high
level--the other guy would be zapped into some unrecognizable
goo. Possibly the young man would be reduced to an ash with a
putrid stench mimicing the flavour of Sheldon’s sister Emma’s latest home made
potage. Ugh! It was a frightful thought that only a reluctant sigh would be
necessary to blow the ensuing residue away.
Why
Sheldon hadn’t totally flipped out at this point, one may never know.
It was
unsettling and unnerving but most of all it meant a sudden alteration to his
prescribed manner and usual method of activity.
Further down the road, Sheldon exited his vehicle and stood
motionless for a long while. He focused on the other fellow,
trying to digest the audacity of his new found opponent. Each had their own
mindset. One was dressed for success and was chasing it around. The other was a
stumbler and wore a rumpled coat with one shirt collar out and the other not.
Sheldon wasn’t that far away but nothing was spoken between them.
Nothing was even muttered amongst themselves. This young fellow was parked next
to a gas pump. He was proceeding to gas up. He was aware of the old man with the
little dog peering at him but he tried vehemently to ignore him, not
understanding him at all. Sheldon, holding his little dog, just stared as he
heard the gas pump twitter across the way. The young man kept shaking his
head.
The
gloves were off, and usual appearances and attitudes were temporarily in
suspension. In the moment, none of this mattered or could be noticed and yet it
was all there.
The
two men had communication without any verbal exchange. Both were different in
all ways you could imagine. One was young, the other old. One was quick
thinking, flashily dressed, had his hair slicked back nattily; the other
contemplative, slapped together, his hair matted and he grew a scruffy
beard. Sheldon had a dog, the other didn’t. The other was a cat
man.
The
day had evolved into an enigma or possibly a conundrum but it was definitely now
a dilemma and Sheldon felt badly about it all. He seemed one more step removed
from the reality he craved. Sheldon and Maxine reluctantly got back into their
car and drove away. He parked his car where it often rested for days and he felt
more at ease upon stepping out back into his world.
They
were tall, way above his head and swaying toward him then away…the trees. Lost
in his sensibilities, he purposed his steps down the lane toward the hillside
where he lived, his little dog trailing behind him. Over his left shoulder, the
trees tried to calm him, soothe his embittered soul as he tried desperately to
return to the set pattern of his life…
…where
Sheldon believed he was a true Mayne Islander.
BIO
David Burrowes has lived on Mayne Island since 2004 enjoying the single
lifestyle and hiding out from those big city ways. Dave was originally brought
up on Vancouver’s North Shore. He moved to Victoria, where he ran a rooming
house for 15 years taking many people off the street. Previous to that, he had
his own small business representing a group of a dozen artists selling various
greeting cards and gift enclosure cards around BC. Dave began writing his first
novel in 2010, fulfilling a lifelong dream of embarking on a writing career.
