It was all in the
turn of her wrist. She felt if she could get a good enough grip she’d
be able to lift the box out into her garage without help. Sistah
Shoop had attended the Cirque Du Soleil and thought if those young
folks could handle their selves in such a way so could she.
She had been most
impressed by the young couple that could pick each other up, hold each
other up on either one leg or one arm and various other positions she
had never read about or seen before.
Most amazing, she thought
as she put her all into lifting the oversized and over weighted box.
No space cleared between it and the floor with any of her attempts.
realized that in being alone there were some things she could not
manage. Actually there were a lot of things she could not manage.
And being the proud woman she was she disliked asking for help. She
disliked having to call upon her friends to come over and move simple
things like this dog gone box and from time to time her attitude.
She leaned her
knee into the box; of course she could unpack it, move it and then
pack it back up. That seemed like additional work and if she called
on Ms. Mess, she’d at least get some interesting conversation and
perhaps a good laugh out of her day. But she disliked that idea too.
Ms. Mess had bigger things on her mind, like love and runnin’ a
business and just being out having fun. Her inner child required
moved the box about an inch. At this rate it would be some time
tomorrow before the box made it to its destination, which would leave
her behind getting to her destination. Well she didn’t really have a
destination. She didn’t really have anyplace in particular to go.
She was on task of just being. And right now she was being resistant,
defiant, undeserving, antidependent, helpless, needy and just plain
stupid. She nudged the box another inch.
Ms. Mess had
pointed out to her all the things she was and was not. The list was
long, worrisome and for the most part quite accurate. She hated to
think that she was any or part or all of most of the things on her
list. And she disliked even more that she was being at least half of
the things at this very moment. So she shifted and looked up at the
calendar hangin’ on the wall. Today was Thursday and she was not
getting any younger by standin’ here strugglin’ with a big ol’heavy
She reached over
and dialed the phone with purpose. Upon hearing the voice on the
other end she informed that she needed some help. It was a quick
call. The voice at the other end didn’t need much prompting. She
hung it up and walked away from the box. She headed for the kitchen
where she took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it full of ice.
She reached into her pantry and pulled out a Dr. Pepper. Ms. Mess
loved a good cold soda and it’d be ready and waiting for her once the
box was in the garage. She walked to her front door and unlocked it
because she knew her friend did not understand the words doorbell or
knock. And as she waited for the sound of Ms. Mess’s old truck she
At any given
moment I can be any of the things I am, but at any given moment I am
only what I am. And at that moment I am not all of those things…
She thought back
on the performers. They had supported each other with strength
unmatched by anything she’d ever seen. That’s what having friends was
for, wasn’t it? She was glad she had attended the cirque.