12 of 12 I'm Free from the Chain Gang

[KB.]

I had no intention of ever saying what was in the "letter", but some where along the road in the early morning hours after midnight a woman wrote a poem to a man; and it made sense. It fit; the letter the first part of it is that poem paraphrased. Love really has been good to me. I italicized the paraphrased poetry.

I'm Free From the Chain Gang.

Patrick felt like he had been in shackles; guarded, but that suddenly the earth had swallowed up his captors, and shook the chains loose from him. The cold rain that had once again pelted his face and accused him of being in need of a cleansing had stopped and the sun came out to visit for awhile.

Jonas looked over at Rose as she held his bad knee in a grip that eased his pain better than any prescription codeine drowned in cheap whiskey could ever have accomplished.

Kate looked at Wil and smiled; she knew Patrick was coming back to them; even after all of the things she had tried to do to keep him away. She felt like they had been through this a hundred times before, but the story was coming to its end; it was an ending not found in most paperback novels sold in drug stores. This ending could be read more than once.

Rose gripped her heart’s knee in her hands; it was a metaphor made physical. She looked at Jonas as he looked at her; he smiled and told her his legs felt strong again. She felt like she had been June in the middle of winter. It was a warm; cool breeze filled feeling.

Wil turned his young eyes towards his Moma; he reached out and grabbed her face in his tiny, strong, innocent hands. He turned her face down so that he could see into her sparkling blue eyes. “You look happy Moma, but you felt sad to me. Daddy is coming home ain’t he? Kate looked at her too soon grown little man, “He is Wil, I can feel him on the wind. You think you can help me be strong for him when he gets here? “I’ll be strong for him too Moma, that way you ain’t got to do it by yourself, we can share.

Patrick found himself at one more crossroads, but there were no allusions here; just different directions. He looked to his left and saw a familiar old car coming down the road; it had at one time been his, but he had traded it to an old friend for a horse. Patrick waited for the car to get closer and waved at the two satisfied looking people sitting inside. He motioned for them to follow him down the path to their right and straight ahead for him.

Jonas was surprised when he saw Patrick sitting up ahead on his old Harley. Patrick waved to him with a smile big enough to cast shadows over the whole of the South. He motioned for Jonas to follow him down the road, and as Patrick rolled on; straight ahead, Jonas followed close behind.

Kate and Wil heard a low, soothing roar coming down the long willow lined drive. They looked at each other and smiled the same kind of smile a traveler in the desert smiles when an oasis appears. They saw Patrick followed by her old friend Jonas coming towards them. Jonas had someone with him, a beautiful woman; she had a look of peace on her face.

The five of them met in the center of the universe and new friends mingled with old, Jonas raised Wil high into the air and held him for awhile as his mother and father got a little reacquainted. Introductions were made, and Rose found herself looking at Wil with a hard longing in her chest. She noticed a twinkle in the eyes of her heart; Jonas looked at her, pointed at Wil, looked back at her and whispered into her ear. Rose blushed and turned the color of her name.

They made their way back to the wide open front porch, Wil stopped to pick a stray buttercup from the green as life yard. He pulled his Moma down to him, and put it behind her ear. “You look pretty with flowers in your hair Moma. Patrick looked over; pulled a strand of Auburn hair away from Kate’s face. “That she does little man; she always did. They reached the porch and everyone sat close to everyone else. The screen door opened and Kate’s mother walked outside carrying a tray, five glasses of sweet Southern iced tea, garnished with a bit of mint that was as green as the yard.

Only one thing was left to turn it all into a present day Faulkner like novel come to life. They talked about a funeral they were to attend the next day; a man named after an old cowboy was to be buried in a small Baptist cemetery at sunrise. Jonas asked Patrick what he was going to do with the letter. “I’ll put it in with John Henry; he needs it more than any of us do right now. “That will end it all just fine Patrick. They four of them grew so close they could have been just two; with Wil being the glue. The breeze blew in softly, and as the sun set it covered them with a warm and smiling glow.



Dear Patrick,

You don’t know me, but I know you. I see the way you look at Kate and it reminds me of the way I used to look at a woman long ago. She looks at you the same way; no matter what happens remember that. Open your eyes and just see. You look like the kind of man who looks in the mirror and sometimes hates what he sees, is he someone you are ashamed to know or is he someone you think you will never meet? Does that forlorn glare keep you out late at night when you should be looking into those blue eyes of Kate?

Does that reflection remind you of better days, have you so casually accepted defeat? Do you even know the man that is standing there? What do you suppose she thinks of when she looks into those eyes, peers into that stormy soul of yours? Do you know when she sees her reflection there her heart feels whole? Do you see that stunning woman, or can you only see the sad little girl she used to be? Can you see the sorrow and distress she feels for you, why does that look hurt you so bad? She sees a splendor in those never lying eyes of yours; she will never let any one steal it away. You better wake up and see it someday; or those eyes may never look into yours again.

You give her vitality and courage; you are the reason she sleeps at night and why she wakes up before you get home in the morning. Those eyes are the reason she continues to believe in it so much. You need to quit trying to hide those eyes from the world, no matter how many times you close them; a thousand times over you can try, but she will be there when you open them.

Maybe.



Every Johnny needs a June, every Doc needs a Kate, and every Jonah ever swallowed by a whale just wants a safe harbor to be there when he finally washes up on shore. Take a look at me son, and then take a look in the mirror; see what you can be and not what you think you have to be.

I’ve made certain contingencies upon my death. There are people who owe me things money can’t pay; this will not go down as what it was. You have to take the gun, this letter, and the money lying by that old fan. Some where further on up the road another letter will come in the mail to Kate’s house back in Georgia; I’m from Georgia myself. That letter will contain a check that is made out to Kate; it will handle any expenses that young Wil and his too big heart may have a need for. All I ask is that you get me on that train headed South, and put me in that rich, earthy soil I miss so much.

When you come upon a crossroads; be sure to pick the directions you take with care. Pull a Cool Hand Luke and shake those shackles off your legs; and no matter how many times that old three headed hound sniffs you out; shake them off again and again.

John Henry

[KB.]

Probably my number one favorite movie of all time; never knew that youtube tribute existed. good job finding that.

[KB.]

He is a sexy, sexy man.



:-2

[Peg]

I have honestly enjoyed this series immensely.

[KB.]

Peg;653557 wrote: I have honestly enjoyed this series immensely.


thank you kindly Peg.