He woke to the sound of voices coming from the front porch, voices which traveled easily through his open window two stories above. They were male voices. The man lay still, listening.
He heard one of them say, "Hello! Anybody here or do we gotta come in?"
"I'm about to bust the door in," the other voice said, a more authoritative tone to his speech. "Slap the warrant in his face and tell him to kiss the floor."
"It's possible nobody's home," the other guy said....
Before the thruway had been built in the late 1960s, the nine hour drive on old Route 9 was the only route to get to the Adirondacks from the heart of Queens, New York. My grandparents timed our departure from Flushing just right, no accidents or major delays. Nothing could get in the way of our summer vacation.
I stare out the car window. Butterflies’ batter around in the cage of my stomach. My nose smudges the glass....
I like to think my story’s a romantic one. I mean, it does involve love, in a sense. Most of y’all will probably not see it this way, which makes my heart sad, but it’s to be expected. People don’t usually never see eye to eye, ‘specially when it comes to love. It’s probably why she left me in the first place. Beautiful Darlene, my angelic spouse. I couldn’t never hurt her like she did me. Yes sir, it pained me an awful lot when I found out she was gone....
The warm wind hit his wings in a torrid gush, giving him lift as he flew higher and higher in circles. He scanned the flatlands beneath him, he scanned the buildings and streets and parks with their winding walkways and he gazed down at the tops of people, always the people, that scurried to and from the buildings in a seemingly blind frenzy. He swooped back southward and glanced at the flock nestled below him by the pond....
No one should have to put up with this the day before Easter, I think, staring grimly at a seething mass of semi-humanity. I am regarding a crowd of zombies with thoroughly unpleasant faces, lurching and writhing their way towards me. Their mouths hang open, twitching slightly; words spoken or grunted yet lost to all. A few of the high tech ones groan incomprehensibly into cell phones, but every single one of them is facing me and coming closer....
He woke to the sound of voices coming from the front porch, voices which traveled easily through his open window two stories above. They were male voices. The man lay still, listening.
Grace in the Adirondacks
