Why are we here?

(written on October of 2011)

 

Suzanna looks before her at the unlit streetlight and wonders, contemplates it; she wonders why it is here.

Suzanna looks to her left and watches the man with the cigar, the one sitting beside her on this park bench in Phoenix, Arizona. She wonders, contemplates the man, why is he here?

Suzanna closes the book of Hemingway poetry she was reading and stands up. She takes a casual walk around the park on this evening in May. She is only 20 years old, but she already wonders the age old question, why are we here?

Towards the end of her walk, when she is back to the noisy street of cars, she sees a man lying in the grass under a fichus tree. He is a feeble looking old man in ragged clothing. She walks up to the man, filled with curiosity. She stands before the man. He doesn't notice her at first, but after a few moments he feels her presence.

He opens his closed eyes, but says not a word. He waits for her to speak.

Suzanna hesitates a moment, but soon asks, "Why are you here?" her voice was not rude, but filled with innocent curiosity.

The old man rises his eyebrows in surprise, but responds, "Dear girl, I am here because GOD told me to be."

"Hmm," responds Suzanna. She takes in that thought for a moment and then excuses herself and leaves the park.

She walks down the street filled with thoughts that can not be put into words, but one reoccurring thought can be. The reoccurring thought is the meaning of existence.

She walks a few blocks, down an alley, and turns onto another busy street with now a lit streetlight. Ironically, a bench is beside this street lamp. This street is near an apartment complex.

Suzanna sits upon this bench and looks out to the sea of cars and headlights; the noisy life of a city. She is still pondering that same question, why are we here?

Soon an owl lands upon the bench beside her, it is a small pigmy owl that is common in this area.

She speaks to the owl, "hello there owl, why are you here?"

The owl turned his head toward her, the eerie way they do, sending a feeling of uncanny wisdom to those who catch their eye.

A thought with a voice of old wisdom enters Suzanna's mind. I am here because the wind carried me here. The owl then flew away.

Goosebumps form upon her skin, but not the scary kind. It was the wind…

"Hmm..." she says out loud once the owl left. She takes in the words from the invisible voice. She then stands up and walks down the street toward home.

As she turns the corner to the neighborhood where her house is, she notices an older woman who is sitting under the streetlight she is about to pass.

Suzanna smiles and nods a hello to the scraggly haired old woman. The woman smiles back, a smile that reaches her sad eyes.

As Suzanna walks past this old woman the woman enters into a coughing fit.

Suzanna stops in her tracks and turns toward the woman. She waits for the woman to control herself. As she waits she studies the woman. She soon notices the yellowing of her skin and the thinness of her shape. Her skin is saggy; she is nothing but skin and bones. Death is at this woman's door.

"Hello," says Suzanna once the woman is through coughing, "why are you here?"

The woman smiles a small smile. She makes eye contact with Suzanna. "I am here because I choose to be. My time is coming, I know all I need to know. I learned it this moment." Her eyes then close. Suzanna knows her soul has left.

"Hmm," says Suzanna. She takes in the woman's words. She is not afraid or panicked by the passing of this woman. The passing calms her soul and gives her some clarity to that unanswerable, or maybe just too many answers, question.

The lady from across the street is now standing outside her house. She notices Suzanna and calls out, sensing something has happened, "Is everything alright?"

Suzanna speaks calmly, "She has passed on." The woman hurriedly went inside to call for an ambulance.

As Suzanna is standing there waiting a thought enters her mind. A thought that ends her contemplation of existence: There is no one answer to the question of life. Be who you are. The rest will follow suit... there is no answer greater than death.

Flap Jack

A story I wrote in October, 2011.

Flap Jack

Flap jack is a kind old man, a not so subtle old man, who loves to dance about the streets of his beloved town of Rosenberg. He dances around the streets with his cherry oak cane and top hat. He wears a top hat sometimes, but mostly holds it in one hand while he dances, and wears a black tailored suit of tweed. Happy as can be is he, nothing can disturb Flap Jack. His coat tails love to dance with the wind, making a nice flapping noise as he does his peasant jig.

The locals of the town of Rosenberg think this absurd little man is a drunk by the way he jumps and snaps his heels together up and down the town streets, singing aloud off key to his favorite tune. The tune he made up himself:

“Oh, flap, flap in the wind goes my tails. I’ve no care in this whole world, nothing but me and my tails.”

The tune makes no sense, not even to him, but he loves to dance free, hop, skip, and sing this tune of nonsense all through the day anyway.

What many don’t know about Flap Jack is his love for teaching the children. He has a teaching degree of English, one he never uses, but oh how he’d love to teach the children one day. He is sixty-three years old yet no work history is there to be seen on his resume. There is nothing but an empty slate of carefree space. He spent his years carefree, happy as can be - skipping, jumping, flipping, hopping - all the day long, spreading his joy of life to the children that he meets and greets.

One day as he was passing by the local High School and noticed there was a sign on the front window of the administration office that read: In Need of a Replacement Freshman English Teacher At Once!

Flap Jack shouted out in excitement “HOORAY, HOORAY, I’LL BE TEACHING TODAY” he then hopped, skipped, and jigged in a circle, clicking his heels together and making his coat tails go FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, causing the citizens walking past to stare, but old Flap Jack did not care.

He entered the administration office at once, causing a burst of excitement shocks, for everyone knew seemingly crazy Flap Jack, but they did not know he’d be here today.

He removes his top hat, his brown head shining in the florescent light. He smiles, his goatee nice and trimmed, and says in the calmest voice he could muster, “I am here for the teaching job posted on that window. Please, may I speak to the principle?”

The secretary, wide eyed and dumbstruck, pointed to the door behind her, the one that read in big letters: PRINCIPLE’S OFFICE.

Flap Jack jumped up in excitement, doing a little peasant jig, making his coat tails go FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, for a few moments, and shouted a loud cheerfully, “Thank you!” and off he went to the principles office, hopping and skipping the couple feet.

He was about to knock politely on the door, but as he lifted his fist the door swung open in a hurry.

“Who is making all this ruckus! People are trying to do their work! Who is disrupting!” the principle angrily whispered.

The principle was not a friendly man; he was a man that was pretty bland. He rarely spoke above a whisper and required others to do the same. His wear was of a dull tan faded suit. Not quite the kind of suit Flap Jack is wearing, for Flap Jack’s suit looks new.

“IT IS I, FLAP JACK, AND I AM HERE FOR THE TEACHING JOB!” he shouts excitedly, forgetting to keep his voice calm. Calm is not a word Flap Jack knows when he is as excitedly happy as he is now.

“Keep your voice down!” The principle sternly whispers. “This is a place of business! Business does not mean shouting! You must be quiet on these grounds!”

Flap Jack steps back with a look of horror. He clenches his chest as if he has been struck in the heart.

“Oh, my dear sir, I did not know this was a place for such silence! I’ll be sure to keep my voice down, but I warn you. It is impossible for me to when I am as happy as can be,” he said these words very calmly, but his next words aren’t as calm. “BUT MY QUIETNESS LASTS ONLY SO LONG, FOR I AM HAPPY ALL DAY LONG!”

Mr. Principle lets out a grumpy groan and wipes his face with his hand in annoyance. “Fine!” he whispers in his angry whispering way. “Be as happy as can be somewhere else! No one here will use the tone of voice as you! So be gone you loud mouth buffoon!”

The words ‘loud mouth buffoon’ made Flap Jack have a laughing fit. A high pitch laugh does Flap Jack have, a laugh that made Mr. Principle very mad.

“Stop I say! Stop! Stop with your high pitch of annoying laughter!” But Mr. Principle made an uh-oh. He shouted these words instead of whispering. He quickly covered his mouth as if to hide his mistake.

The shout caused Flap Jack to stop laughing. He looked wide eyed in shock at Mr. Principle.

“You shouted! You broke your own rule! For breaking that sacred rule, please do give me a chance at the teaching job!” these words he said were of excitement, but calm.

Mr. Principle had an expression of annoyance on his face, but he knew he had no choice but to agree with Flap Jack. This knowledge frustrates him. The frustration of this knowledge causes him to squint his eyes and stomps his foot while holding back the shout he wants to let out.

“Fine!” he manages to angrily whisper. “You are hired. You begin tomorrow morning at eight o’clock on the dot, don’t you dare be late! The room is in FA 128.”

“HOORAY,  HOORAY, THAT MADE MY DAY! I AM SO HAPPY I’LL BE TEACHING, YAY!” he does a little peasant jig, making his coat tails go FLAP, FLAP, FLAP as he makes his way out of the building.

That next morning, at eight o’clock on the dot, he entered the room FA 128, with a skip and a hop.

There he was surprised to see, the most solemn faces he ever did see. Oh how this made him feel so bad, seeing these children so sad.

“OH, MY DEAR CHILDREN! WHAT MAKES YOU SO SAD! ARE YOU NOT TO BE GLAD TO LEARN?”

The children stare at him in shock, for he did what they were not to do. He shouted at the top of his lungs!

“Mr. Flap Jack sir,” whispers a young blond girl with curls in the front row. “We are not to shout. This is a place of learning, and learning does not involve shouting.”

Flap Jack laughs his high pitch laugh, causing the windows to shutter.

The Children quietly wait for him to compose himself. He soon does stop laughing.

“My dear children, this is a place of laughter and fun! This place has no room for silence and tears! For learning has yet to begun, until there‘s laughter and fun!” with these words he knocks off the papers that were on his desk. As he dances around the room, doing his famous peasant jig, he announces, “No grades are there to be found in this class! Knowledge has no percent, for it is endless! There will be nothing but music and laughter for now on in this class!”

The children let out a quiet HOORAY! But Flap Jack did not like that. He encouraged them to shout it louder by letting out an earth shaking HOORAY!!! And the students immediately followed suit.

So, for three days fun, music, and laughter did last. Three days of learning through a musical stomp and a laughing tune. The students learned their P’s and Q’s even if there was no paperwork or tests to be found.

The children’s laughter spread through the school. In those short days the whole school was in a happy loud laughter and dance, joining in with Flap Jack’s peasant dance.

Everyone was happy, screaming, singing, dancing in their joy. Everyone except Mr. Principle, he still remained a whispering grump.

“Flap Jack, you are fired!” He tells Flap Jack on the fourth day, first thing in the morning as he was entering the office.

“Oh! But why so! I made the school as happy as can be! The children enjoy their learning now! Oh, why would you get rid of me?” Flap Jack cries these words. They were his calmest words yet.

Mr. Principle did not budge.  He crossed his arms and glared, saying in his well known angry whisper, “this is a place of business! Business does not mean shouting! You must be quiet on these grounds!”

Flap Jack left the office with a heavy heart. His shoulders sagging, his coat tails no longer flapping; they are now dragging upon the ground. Will Flap Jack now forever frown?

The children were in an up roar after they heard of the firing of Flap Jack. They screamed “NO, NO, NO! WE WANT HIM BACK! WE WILL NOT LEARN UNTIL HE’S BACK!”

The students went on strike, refusing to go back to their classrooms until Flap Jack was back. Even the teachers did not stop this. On the second day of the strike every one of the teachers in the school marched to the principles office and demanded for Flap Jack to be hired again.

The anger of the teachers helped Mr. Principle to realize his mistake. He now realized how much better the school really was with Flap Jack around. With this realization, he agreed to get Flap Jack back. He went out at once to find him.

Mr. Principle went to the City Park, and there he found Flap Jack, sad as can be, sitting upon a park bench. He was bent hunched over, his tails almost touching the ground. He had a droopy frown of sadness that could be felt all throughout town.

Mr. Principle sat down beside Flap Jack and said pleadingly, “Flap Jack! Please come back to school! You are hired again! Please bring your laughter and joy back to the school! It is a wreck without you! I was wrong, you were right! Oh please say you’ll be back! Teach me the knack of being as happy as you Flap Jack.”

Flap Jack instinctively beamed a smile that lit up the whole town. He popped up and began to do his hip, skip, peasant dance, making his coat tails go FLAP, FLAP, FLAP.

“MR. PRINCIPLE, IT IS SO EASY TO BE AS HAPPY AS ME! JUST JUMP UP, CLICK YOUR HEELS! AND DANCE, DANCE, THE FLAP JACK DANCE WITH ME! LIKE THIS, YOU SEE?”

So he demonstrates for the principle. He jumps up, hops, skips, and clicks his heels together singing all the while:

“Oh, flap, flap in the wind goes my tails. I’ve no care in this whole world, nothing but me and me tails.”

The principle laughed a joyful laugh, one of rustic sounding for lack of use, but the longer he laughed the clearer it got. And as he sang, danced, hopped, and skipped with Flap Jack, his laugh was as high and loud and clear has his. He and Flap Jack danced the peasant jig all the day and night long.

The next morning they arrived at school full of laughter and cheer. The students and faculty were as happy as can be to see them arriving full of pleasantry.

Since that day the school was no longer dull and quiet, it was full of laughter and cheer, just like ol’ Flap Jack.

 [Very rough sketch of Flap Jack below]: