He Rode Tall

excerpt

The Loan
The Great Plains Bank
Great Falls, Montana
“Well hello, Mr. Hooper. My name is Donna Davis.
How can I help you?”
Joel had been in the bank once before when things were rough.
Heck, they were always rough. But now, with the power and the
telephone companies both putting him on “final notice,” Joel was
even more desperate than he was before. He had told Tanya about
the letters. All she could offer was that her and her dad often had
gone months without a phone, and last time she looked in the
fridge there really wasn’t much worth keeping anyways. Joel knew
that it wasn’t just about having his power and telephone cut off. For
him, this was just the tip of his financial woes.
But at least he was sober, and even though things weren’t looking
very good, there was a special spirit in his heart telling him
that he would be able to get through this especially rough time.
Joel wasn’t sure where that was coming from. Maybe from the
hills. Maybe the horses. Maybe Tanya. Maybe Cindy. Whatever
the source, it was much better than the black ugly place his mind
would have taken him if he had been drinking.
Joel’s previous visit to the bank hadn’t been a good experience.
Joel had left empty-handed and feeling more than a little abused. He
wasn’t looking forward to this return trip but he had run out of
options. Desperate was the word that best characterized Joel’s current
state of financial affairs. He was hoping that his persistence
would pay off and he would be rewarded for his second effort.

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Poodie James

excerpt

up Kittitas Street. Sitting in his wagon was a crying boy, about two
years old. Poodie walked backward as he pulled, making sounds at
the child. Spanger eased the car back into its place, contemplated
for a moment, then got out and walked across the street. When
Poodie saw the chief, he transferred his chatter to Spanger, gesturing
toward the little boy, the parade, the wagon and something up
the hill.
Leaning down to Poodie, Spanger said, “I see you’ve become a
father.”
Poodie thrust the wagon handle toward Spanger with one hand
and reached for his pad with the other. Holding the wagon, the
chief faintly heard the end of the Marine Corps Hymn.
“Not my boy. Lost,” Poodie wrote. “Taking him to police station.”
“Good idea,” the chief said, ”but maybe we should try to find his
parents first.”
Poodie hunched his shoulders, spread his arms and grunted a
sentence.
“Well, let’s look again,” Spanger said. “Come on.”
Poodie turned the wagon around and followed the chief back
down the hill. At the avenue, Spanger used his handkerchief to
wipe away tears and traces of ice cream on the boy’s face. He
hoisted the child onto his shoulders. Perched above the crowd, his
hands around the big man’s neck, the boy laughed as a float packed
with elves drifted by. Poodie went from one spectator to another,
tugging on sleeves, pointing up at the boy. No one claimed the
child. Halfway down the block, a young woman, her face strained
in worry, squeezed along the sidewalk through the crowd, pushing
a baby in a stroller. Poodie planted himself in front of her and
turned to point toward Spanger and his passenger.
“Willie,” he saw her say, “oh, Willie.”
Grinning, Poodie led her to the corner. People turned away
from the parade to watch the reunion and the mother’s tearful
thanks.
“Mr. James, we make a pretty good team,” Spanger told Poodie.

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Übermensch

Prayer
Then came the hour of our prayer, useless chains unto which
we sacrificed youth and vital tree shoots. The vacant plaza with
a few finches in the shrubs, the only answer to our questions.
Greediness of the selected few reigned over our symbols,
holes poked through our youthful dreams.
Someday we shall change the world.
Someday we shall create something better.
The steps of the stairs creaked as if from the heavy steps
of our dead, steps full of guilt which smart people had placed
deep inside us since the ancient times. The cypress was always
silent on the opposite sidewalk. Myriads of fallen leaves,
soldiers in the front line, while He stood on top of the table
and we heard Him as clear as a bell when He said.
I like those who choose their self-destruction.

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