The Stay
November 1, 2000
7:48 a.m.
Occasionally, Lisa asks me about why I believe there is a God. Which I do, by the way. I'm am not religious, but very devout. Does that make any sense? Anyway. When she asks me this question, I answer that I believe in a God because of the way things happen. Some people might call it synchronicity, or serendipity, or kismet, or whatever. But I believe there is a God because he or she or it proves it so often. Yes, I'm a strange engineer. So let me start by saying that I received a stay of execution last night. Those of you who read often will remember that I had been notified that my bag carrying and escort services were no longer needed for the evening's trick-or-treating. Brigid was planning on going with a friend, and wouldn't be needing an overbearing father hanging around. However, two things derailed this. First, her friend couldn't get here until 7:00, meaning Brigid would go out for the first half of the night by herself, which, no matter what the neighborhood, is not happening. Second, her friend's parents asked if an adult could supervise. I gleefully accepted. So I put on my jacket and went out for what I'm assuming was the very last trick-or-treating adventure of my life. It was a glorious night in Columbus, Indiana. Perfectly made for candy grabbing. Kids were everywhere. I love looking at costumes. Brigid didn't want to wear her fangs, so I wore them. We kidded each other about our roles. "Don't worry," I said, crossing my hands in what is apparently Live Action Role Playing symbology. "I'm invisible." When she rolled her eyes I said, "What?" She didn't respond. "Okay." I put my arms down and spread them a little. "I'm a bush." "Daddy!" "Well, I'm not Gorey." Har, har, har. I can really crack the political jokes when I'm on a roll. Overall, I really enjoyed the walk. I enjoyed watching the sun go down, and the haze of light clouds spread moonbeams. The air was fresh. The temperature was fine. And I did my very best to relax. I suppose I should mention, that along with all the stuff you read here--storytelling, and whatnot--that work had been kind of weird for me lately. I'm transitioning into a new role, and the interaction of my two bosses is occasionally confusing. Not really a big deal most of the time, but I'll admit it can be a little wearing at times as the people who "decide my fate" try to position themselves. I think this is one of the reasons I threw myself into the evening. It's one of the reasons that, when I found I was going to be included, I promised my version of God that I would enjoy every minute, that I would pay attention. We got home and waited a little. Brigid's friend came. You must picture the two of them. They are both scarecrow thin with dark hair. Both tall, though Brigid is a few inches the taller. Both of them were vampires with capes that flowed from shoulder to ankle. Both wore garish lipstick--Brigid a smeared pinkish red, her friend a heavy purple-red. They spoke with the high-high voices of pre-teen girls (well, what the heck would you expect, huh?) We went out again. They streaked out ahead of me, laughing and holding their arms out, their capes up and fluttering in the wind. They raced from door to door, saying trick or treat, getting candy, and singing a silly song about sugar and being hyper. They grabbed each other's candy and bickered, and laughed some more. They compared costumes of the kids they saw. When they got thirsty they pulled out the pleading faces and begged a couple Dixie cups of water from a house. Half way through, I was struck by the fact that I was traveling with the Crow Girls (a reference you may only get if you've read Charles De Lint's work--sorry). I love those characters. Finally the streets grew empty. Trick-or-treating is done to a timetable around here. We were a ways from home, so we moved walked along the street, me holding the bags, the two of them flying ahead and laughing and tickling and complaining about sore feet or whatever. It was a very nice way to end my trick-or-treating career. I figured I was being rewarded for my earlier promise with the sight of my daughter playing. If so, was a reward I would never trade. But this great power wasn't done for the night. Not by a far sight. When we got home, Brigid and her friend piled in the back seat, and I drove toward her friend's house. We went out of our neighborhood, and turned onto state road 46. The girls talked about girl stuff. I tried to be a bush. There was a fair amount of traffic. My legs were tired and warm from the walk. I was enjoying the afterglow of Halloween retirement. We crossed state road 11, and went over the newest bridge in town, then past the Commons Mall. This brought us to the building where I work. It's a big white building with vines and glass. Very beautiful, actually. Standing at the corner, in a suit with his tie askew, his hair a bit mussed, and holding a briefcase, I saw the president of one of our company's business units. He's a good man. He is an officer of the company. He makes important decisions, and as far as I'm concerned he earns every one of the big bucks he makes. But he was on the street corner in the dark last night. I only saw him for an instant, standing there as I drove past, but I carried the image of his tired face with me. I glanced at the clock--8:30, give or take. The man had missed Halloween. No trick or treaters. No pumpkins. No bloody masks. No kids laughing or crying for him. I believe in a God, you see, because these things happen too often. I mean, why else would this man have happened to come out at this exact time so that I could see him and be reminded so strongly of my personal goals? My reward was a two-parter, you see. This was my own version of God speaking to me, reminding me of what I'm doing with my life, telling me to have patience with the parts of work that are ... well ... stupid. The girls, of course, didn't see this man. They went on talking, and eating candy. I smiled to myself, and said a silent thank you to this wondrous thing that is synchronicity/serendipity/kismet. And I thought about the lesson that from what I assume will be my very last night of trick or treating ever. Beware of getting tangled up in things that don't really make a difference--the price is too high, and the rewards not nearly sweet enough.   Have a great day.  And they tipped me a Three Muskateers Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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Good work this morning |
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