by Doug Bond
On the way to the colonoscopy he says, “They're not going to find anything I can't outrun before I'm dead of old age anyway.”
He has started the counting in earnest: My last car, my last driver's license photo, my last census, the last probe up my ass.
He could outlive all of it. Or not. For now, we are going to the place where they will scan his walls. Threats and lesions, cracks and gaps, places where the devil breaks in.
My father was once a state champ swimmer. I remember those shoulders from when I was a very young boy. I would ride on the saddle space of his back in the community pool down by the beach in our small coastal town. The long lane lines seemed to stretch out forever.
I ease his car into empty parking stripes alongside the low-slung clinic building and listen to him talk of the future in the tentative certainties that have at heart nothing certain about them. I'm reminded of the things I'd thought of as a kid about Columbus, and the other famous sea explorers. How amazing to be the first to find out, to see where the ocean ends, where it is that can't be seen, to finally know for sure what is there.
I can still see the illustration in the school book from years ago, the earth a large, flat-edged box and the water breaking, hard, in a ninety degree angle and falling.
Falling into nothing.
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Originally published at Necessary Fiction, 12.01.10
Where the ocean ends, Necessary Fiction
Gosh, this is good. Haunting and beautiful.
Real writing. This is fine.*
Damn good. That last long paragraph is just perfect. The rest is, too, of course.
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Great piece.*
amazing and more.
Hurts a little bit to read this. In a good way of course. It's just so real*
Thank you all for the read, really, thank you, it is an appropriate time to bring this one out again.
Really resonated with me..."For now, we are going to the place where they will scan his walls."
The “long lane lines,” stretch by themselves with the alliteration. Also “places where the devil breaks in” is very very nice. Thanks for sharing.
". . . places where the devil breaks in." Moving and well done. Excellent.*
My father was a swimmer, too. I sometimes marvel at the picture of him as a young man in his bathing suit. A different person. THis is a lovely piece. Thanks for posting on Father's Day.
You capture the relativity of knowlege, time and relationships very, very well.
Thanks again for the comments and for letting me know how you connected with the writing in this.
Really fine, Doug.
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I really like this a lot Doug ~ really engaging, poignant and alive ~ a reverent and respectful meditation and tribute. *
Love this tribute. Perfectly round like the Earth and like a son's love.
great work doug...
Your story reveals a lot of sincere love, Doug. You'll have to look at the ocean and thank your dad for a classic Micro opener. *
I love this. It's just beautiful.
A heartfelt thank you to the most recent posting gentleman, and the recently joining Amye Archer, welcome and thank you, thank you all.
Wonderful work. *