A yellow light at Classen; full moon over Eufaula; Elm to pick up Robin. That friends. Corner, Elm and Boyd, flashing reds. Should come to one. Stop at Sunshine. From far away. Red letters, yellow ground: “FOOD [smiley face] BEER [smiley face] ICE [smiley face] ETC. “Is this not, after all, delightful? Down Main, yellows flashing, flashing reds at Classen. Red “McDonald’s,” yellow arches, American flag in dark.
Orange VW, open road, orange parking light on right (Robin driving). White beams on black asphalt. Yellow flashing traffic light, roadside markers black and white. Passing Franklin: broken yellow center line, roadside grass illuminated green. “Aladdin Carpet Cleaning.” “16th St.,” reflective white on green. Black cross, yellow diamond (intersection sign). “The latest thing in velvet painting” – Robin – “is laser reproductions.” Stop at red; blue shield; enter I-240. “That’s GM.” Yellow “Trucks Entering”; black trees massing (right); white of cars oncoming (left). Large “STOP,” corner station red and blue. “Kerr-McGee’s still holding on to their 127.9.” Robin slowing, turning right. “Everyone else is 115.” Veering into “Moore Industrial Catering” lot. “CHOW MOBILE,” R.’s camera set on hood. To learn at due times. “First thing in th’ mornin’.” To repeat. “Is start it up.” What one has learnt. “’Cuz if it won’t start.” Is that not after all. “You’re in trouble.” A pleasure? “KEBC goin’ strong” (radio). “Hi, Rob.”
“Hi, Wilma.” (Keep Every Body Country.)
“May I put this row of sausages in here?” “Yes, you may.” Robin loading foot-long hotdog rolls. Wilma, on to next truck, loading her own sausages, doubleknit red pants, almost matching red top. Still dark, moon through misty tree branch.
“Where’s the polka tape this morning,” Wilma?
“Well, I’ll git it!” W. in white headband, blue scarf.
“I don’t wanna get sick, Wilma” – driver, next truck over – “leave that durn thing off!” To remain unsoured though one’s merits are unrecognized by others. Robin toting milk quart crate. Is that not after all what is expected of the superior man? Wilma, sandwich in each hand, comparing them by light of single bulb. “FIRST IN QUALITY AND SERVICE.” Polka over. Sky begins to blue.
Robin fitting sandwiches into empty Babe Ruth box. Front of white truck in sad electric light, side and back pleat-patterned panels open, silvered surfaces. Radio: “Say Oklahoma.” Wilma’s polka tape, new number: piano waterfall ripples over big brass ground, accordion emergence. Gentle breeze from west waving long strands of grass. “I ain’t gonna get nobody,” says passing woman, pink, ribbed sleeveless blouse. Stars out overhead, single cloud wisp. Author seated blue plastic Gold Spot Dairy crate, concrete slab, aureate bulb above casting blue corona. New polka whistling flute gives way to real whistling, man in light-brown white-striped shirt, arm akimbo, other resting on Wilma’s truck. Office screen door screech, slam, Wilma returning: “Git that truck outta my way!”
“Hold on, Wilma” – Robin – “it’s only 5:30.” Sign in office window: “Prices subject to change according to customer’s attitude.”
Robin truck interior, top row, side panel: In acting on behalf of others. Ruffles Bar-B-Q; Munchies; Lays Potato Chips. Snack Pack Tostitos; Frito Lay Cheddar Bits. Have I been loyal to their interests? Second row: In dealings with my friends. Dolly Madison Cinnamon Rolls, Dolly Madison Zingers, Dolly Madison Koo Koos, Dolly Madison Bear Claw, Dolly Madison Artificially Flavored Peach Pie. Have I been true to my word? Third row: Have I failed to repeat the precepts handed down to me? Copenhagen snuff, Skoal two-pack. Merit carton, emptied, refilled with Winstons, Salems, Marlboro Soft Packs, Kools. Every day I examine myself on these three points. Fourth row: Lance Toastchees, Planters Peanuts, M&M’s, Snickers, Bama Chewy Peanut Butter Cookies, Rolaids.
Bottom bay: sideways-stacked 16-oz. Coca-Colas, Dr. Peppers, Diet 7-Ups; upright Tropicana Lemon Limes, Apple Drinks; sidewise Sunkist Orange Drinks, Gatorades (lightning streak in orange on green). Robin: “Some guys’ll come up and say, ‘Give me a sixteen-ouncer and a foot-long.’” It is a young man’s duty to behave well to his parents at home. Gold Spot 12-oz. Vitamin D milks; little cans of V-8; Big Tex Grapefruit juices. And to his elders abroad. Robin says author can have anything he wants to eat all day. Leaned above them cellophane-covered box of Frito Lay Coco Cremes. To be cautious in giving promises. “Come back here, son” – manager’s voice from office – “whatcha got there?” And punctual in keeping them. “Where you been, out drinkin’ with Roy again?”
“Where’s coffee, Jay?” – woman in brown top, maroon slacks. To have feelings toward everyone.
“I don’t know.” But seek. “I’ll give ’em a call.” The intimacy of the Good.
“How many of ’em, twenty-four?” – Jay on phone – “They just left now?” Woman in brown top, waiting for answer.
“You don’t get any coffee.” Woman reading off what she has in plastic crate, Jay recording it. If, when all this is done, he has energy to spare. “You come on back and see us, ya hear?” Then let him study the polite arts. Dr. Pepper clock on wall, maroon numerals, 10, 2, 3 in red. Hands showing 5:29. “Good evening!” – Jay to girl in yellow shirt, freckles. “EMPTY YOUR COFFEE GROUNDS” tacked to blackboard.
“We got any Lifesavers” – long, honey-blond hair – “or only Certs?”
“I’m a life saver” – Jay.
Ice dock: fleecy clouds beginning to show; KOMA towers, red lights blinking. Woman in brown top shoveling ice onto comestibles. “I’ve got a heart murmur, scared to drive, if you know what I mean.” If a gentleman is frivolous he will lose the respect of inferiors. Robin to third driver: “What kind of Tropicana you got?” And lack firm ground upon which to build his education. Bluish light raking page, Robin taking up silver shovel to load crushed ice. First he must learn to be faithful to his superiors. Refrigerator plant hum-throb. And to keep his promises. Forgotten camera still on hood of truck. To refuse the friendship of those who are not like him. Robin, shirt off (hung over side-view mirror), working to complete his list. Co-worker to author: “You writin’ ‘bout fuzzy head over there?”
“Yeah.” Woman in brown returns, closes side panel, Robin closing his too.
Circle K Tropicana pit stop, 6:03. Moore Gold Exchange and Trading Post next door (“Anything of value”). Robin back in truck, reading aloud from text of yellow/red Domino Dots sugar package. Sun imminent on pink, grey-streaked horizon. “Yellow Horizon Homes” ad, Eastern Avenue. Moore Fire Department, Station #3. Robin turning right into S.E. 19th, spanking new water tower looming into view (“Smile America” [smiley face in star-field, pie-quartered American flag]). “Tri-State,” silver gates flung open. “This is our first stop.” “CAUTION” (yellow sign, black letters): “Do Not Enter / This Shop / Without Eye Protection.”
“David Shields, come to Area 7 please” – loudspeaker. When the Master had arrived in a fresh country. Robin visible, right side mirror, shifting ice, replanting newly-acquired fruit punch Tropicanas. He managed to find out about its policy. “CAUTION: Wear Safety Shoes in This Area.” Steady mechanical drone. Did he do this by asking questions? “Check With Guard Before You Enter Plant.” Pale pink clouds brightening, pale blue between them. Or did the people tell him of their own accord? Red-capped, pot-bellied worker, blond greasy locks, approaching. “Good Morning” – Robin.
“What’s so good about it?”
“Friday.” Worker wallet opening.
“Got any Pepsi?”
“Nope. Coke.” Second customer Tropicana Fruit Punch selection, Robin visible making change; readjusting ice; looking up as new-arrivals approach. “They got the thing disconnect, Steve said” – 30-year-old, patch-quilt hat, visor turned to back.
“Fuck, I wanted to get drunk this morning” – shirtless companion, blue bandana, gold earring. Robin in rear view mirror taking quick coffee swig. Our Master gets things by being cordial.
“Today’s a payday here, isn’t it?” – Robin, Guatemalan shirt, rimless glasses, balding pate. Frank, courteous.
“Thank God for small favors.” Temperate, deferential.
“Sounds like there was a party out here last night.” That is the Master’s way of enquiring.
“Trouble is, the beer truck didn’t get here till everyone had left.” A very different matter from the way in which enquiries are generally made.
Workers arriving now in force: cars, motorcycles, pickups, most with headlights still on. “Love to see the wives bring their husbands to work” – Robin. “Kissy-kiss, kissy-kiss.” Yellow-bearded worker in red cap, large white polka dots, khaki army pants. Black guy rolling a tire as he walks, bottle of orange juice held by neck. Crane armatures seen through gate, yellow-orange, grey corrugated shop wall background. Baby blue trashcan, stenciled global map (black continents, blue seas, white rectangular field). Worker, black lunchbox, steps over silver rail, limps towards truck. Long-haired friend, “EAT THE BEST” tee shirt, keys on chain: “God damn, get me outta this place,” front tooth missing. Together passing on through gate, white styrocups in hand.
Light crimson sun poking through hazy grey horizon, openwork elm, reading black, inhibiting heat rays. Hispanic digging roadside ditch. Top of sunball flaring orange, cresting cloudmass. Roadside Wendy’s flyby, firehouse red letters, chrome yellow burger. Sun fully up, disc riding an inch over Southwest OKC. Red “C & C” on yellow field, black “Mower Service.” Yellow depicted bell, red “Gas.” When proper respect toward the dead is shown. “Crossroads Cathedral” (largest church in the world). And continued after they are far away. “Jesus Is Lord” over portals, opaque yellow script electric sign. The moral force of a people. Yellow traffic diamond, red octagonal stop in field, black arrow pointing upward. Has reached its highest point.
7-Eleven pull-in. Cop car siren blip. “Your Change is the Key to Cure.” Black-and-white turning our direction, red/blue overhead light flash, passing on uproad. “I guess I’ll go in and see if they’ve got film” – Robin. Cop pulling over bigbed Chevy pickup.
Gas-N-Go stop, tailgate down-thud. “I’m glad you came” – dishwater blonde, tight cowboy shirt – “I near to starved yesterday.” “Redneck girl likes to stay out all night long” (radio). “Peggy” carved in leather, back of belt. “Has a kiss on her lips for her hubby and no one else.” “You might get fat, that’s true” – R. to Peggy. Sun blinding, risen to station a foot above horizon. “And don’t forget to come back tomorrow!” – Peggy. “No one else,” tailgate slam, Gas-N-Go departure. “We’re on 89th but we’re goin’ on up to 24th and around, where we spend most of the day.”
Lovely Chicano girl, overweight Okie co-worker, Will Rogers Office Park, Meridian. A gentleman. Okie: “Look at all the good stuff that’s fattening.” Who never goes on eating till he’s sated. “You don’t have to worry about that” – Robin. Who does not demand comfort in his home. “Oh yes I do!” Who is diligent in business and cautious in speech. “Only kind of what, sweet rolls?” – Robin. Svelte Chicano girl in cutoffs, platforms. Who only associates with those who possess the Way. First two joined by another office girl, “Did You Ever Get Tired of Being Wrong?” tee shirt. And thereby corrects his own faults. “Good morning,” to Robin. “Here on time for a change!” Such a one. “I made this money workin’” – Chicano girl, dropping quarters one at a time from gorgeously pale palm, nails red. “Ha ha” – Robin. Such a one may be said to have a taste for learning. Chicano girl glancing at author. Ice-melt dripping off side of truck, rivulet down parking lot asphalt. Robin rearranging Tropicana Fruit Punch. Half-circle sun blazing pre-formed concrete building corner. “We have to stay here till about 5 to anyway.” Circular silver gas cap, red circle within. “’Cuz we don’t want to get to the next stop too early.” Quilted silver panels turning parking lot into diamonded multi-image. “Say” – Robin – “that leads me to believe that existence is a subjective thing.”
“Where was you yesterday, boy?” – good old girl, Oklahoma Diagnostic Supply. “I tell you, don’t you ever leave here before you see that little yellow thing drive up.” New addition, Industrial Park. “I had to put up with him all morning.” Co-worker’s left hand balancing milk, chocolate cake, right hand extending $5 bill, right eye shut against cig smoke upward drift. Downlot truck side-door slamshut completes missing section of Lee Way stripe. “A dollar even” – Robin.
“How’s my credit?” – co-worker, worn Levis, Brylcreme slickback.
“How’s the drive shaft business?” White Toyota, wrap-around orange stripe, enters lot. Good old girl in blue slacks, red top, white piping, hesitating over choice, large diamond, gold band, silvered aviator glasses. Drive Shaft offers her a sip of milk, blushing, Robin observant, arms folded, change-maker strapped to waist. “Here comes Byron” – good old girl – “he might want something.” Byron shirtless, descending ’54 air-scooped Chevy, yellow comb obtruding from hip pocket; snakeskin boots, red moustache, silver arrowhead pendant in chesthair tangle. Tropicana Fruit Punch purchase, quick departure. “Say, before I forget it” – Robin in middle of bio-sketch – “you gotta remind me about my camera. We coulda got Byron’s picture.”
Second wave, management break, ice water steady drain from truck. Foursome fishing for Diet Dr. P.’s. “It’s a good movie though.”
“Yeah, but it’s not very typical of Richard Pryor.”
“Are you lookin’ for a milk?” – Robin.
“No, I’m lookin’ for a P.” Management scrutinizing author observation.
“You mind” – Robin – “if I take you all’s picture?”
“Like nine copies” – brush moustache, olive collar, brown tie – “8 x 12.”
“’Where you goin’?’” – colleague quoting Richard Pryor, “he goes,” visual bit imitation. Silver bouffant secretary, barely tolerant, turns toward open steel office door.
Will Rogers Parkway continuation, Robin placing camera back on dash. “Will Rogers Parkway” – author. “That’s funny.” Robin: “Ha ha.” He who rules by moral force is like the pole star. TAI stop (Texas Aluminum Industries). Which remains in its place. Black dude. While all the lesser stars. Standing in dock. Do homage to it. Arms spread: “Ain’t nobody here.” He is not an implement. 1352. Next stop: 4210, Diversco, Inc. “Here comes two real nice girls,” blue slacks, magenta slacks, second in matching striped top. “Good day.” He does not preach what he practices. Says Robin. Till he has practiced what he preaches.
“So they say” – blue slacks.
“Well, it’s Friday.”
“Yeah, I never thought of it that way.” He who learns but does not think is lost. “I thought it was Wednesday.” He who thinks but does not learn. “CAUTION.” Is in great danger. “Buried Electric Cables,” black on yellow. Yellow front-end loader, black backhoe, works on footings fifty yards distant, a field of daisies stretching between us. He who sets to work upon a different strand. Late arrival. Destroys the whole fabric. Pink knit, brown corduroys: “Nobody even told me you were out here.” Cig in hand, bare-legged, right foot balanced against left knee, studies selection. “Say, can I take your picture?” – Robin. Cig drag, smile at author. “Thank yee-you” – Robin.
“You’re welcome.”
NCR. “NO SOLICITING,” block printed stick-on letters. Hand-lettered “Please Close Door Completely,” feminine script. A gentleman can see a question from all sides. First sign on outside. Without bias. Second on inside of glass. Black older man selecting chocolate milk. The small man. “Who’s a redneck?” – voice from nowhere, apropos of nothing. Is biased.
“He’s with me” – Robin stepping in as author continues to write. And can see a question from only one side. “He’s gettin’ it all down for history.” Freckle/pock-head, nasty girl step up truckside; man reaches for paper towel, checks out doughnut box (sugar-oil bleeding through cardboard). Girl choosing sandwich. “Can I get you guyses’ picture?” – Robin. Look closely into his aims.
“Just don’t give one to my ex-old lady” – freckles. Observe the means by which he pursues them.
“There we were” – girlfriend. Discover what brings him content. “Here we are,” incipient varicose veins. “I sell copies” – Robin. Can the man’s real worth remain hidden?
“Best route driver we ever had in here” – pock-head to general audience.
“Beats hell outta that biker’s old lady” – nasty girlfriend – “tattoo marks all up and down her arms.” Can it remain hidden from you?
“Writin’ a diary, huh?” – pock-head to author.
“PARAGON CLEANERS LAUNDRY,” N.W. 10th and Meridian. At fifteen. “Dry Cleaning Office Has Been Moved Next Door.” I set my heart upon learning. Author in truck. “Follow the Arrows,” large red arrow above words pointing to shirts behind glass. “PARAGON” white, “CLEANERS AND LAUNDRY” yellow, red drop shades. Oriental girl exiting laundry, approaching truck, selecting muffin (rear view mirror). Row of plastic maroon chairs lining sidewalk, cleaners front, beginning to fill with Hispanic help. Girls clearly overheated, already exhausted. “Say, I wanna get somethin’ to eat. I’m hongry.” At forty. Laundry scene viewed over Robin’s dash. I no longer suffered from perplexities. Cash purse, plastic spoon, Coke tops (2). At fifty. Ceramic (brown) coffee cup; flowered (orange and yellow) paper cup; styrofoam (white) cup, dope inside. I knew. Forty-nine-cent lettuce seed pack, held down by windshield wiper arm. What the biddings of Heaven were.
Robin approaching bevy of gorgeous, lively Hispanic girls, negotiating for picture in Spanish; yellow Kodacolor II pack, red logo, black letters, silver foil, ripped open, resting on blue front seat. At sixty. Elegant spokesman for worker clique, timeworn chic, red stretch pants, Coke in hand. All the girls smiling, laughing for Robin’s photo. I heard them. Some of them giggling, holding sandwiches over their faces. With docile ear. Girl in purple skirt, yellow headband, simultaneously snapping Polaroids, instant distribution. At seventy. Green butterflies on skirt front. I could follow the dictates of my heart. Leg slit to mid thigh. For what I desired. Large curvaceous purple top. No longer overstepped. Red mouth full of teeth. The boundaries of right. White eighteen-year-old co-worker, white pants, leans arm on author’s open window, reading what he has written. Robin steps behind wheel, white coffee cup in hand. “This is right now,” he says.
Tzu-chang. OKC Optical. Asked whether the state of things. Plate glass for garage – read bedroom – door. Ten generations hence. Across street from Perkins truck lot. Could be foretold. In-lot view of gate attendant’s hut. He was speaking of ritual. “Fuel Tickets” on window, illiterate scrawl. “We know,” said the Master, “how after the Hsia the Yin modified ritual.” “You gonna take over the route?” – American-flag-armpatched guard. “We know how after the Yin the Chou modified ritual.” “Well, I’m thinkin’ about it.” “Hence can we foretell what the Chou’s successors will be like.” Mid-America Farm Lines, 5120, “Moving food … from us to you.” “Even supposing they do not appear till a hundred generations from now.” “Don’t let her on!” – guard to driver, of long-haired, lavender-smocked pregnant girl. “Vamos, vamos” – blond-haired driver opening cab door, Lavender Smock in tinted thin-rim glasses, white plastic hair band.
Wind turbine turning atop green house next to OKC Optical: American flag flipping, flapping in wind bursts. Lot exuding pungent oil-gas odor, stable of Oklahoma Peterbilt trucks, “Peterbilt, OKLAHOMA CITY,” truck side; dirty “Peterbilt” multiflap; “Pe …” (obscured by blue and red engine). Passing cattle truck draws “Pe-ewe” from passing clerk. “Oklahoma Peterbilt / [picture of truck] / Oklahoma City” tee shirt, back of exiting mechanic. Trucker leaning up to girl in rig, places boot on high first step: “You want some coffee or something?” Girl watching Robin out side window, finishes licking envelope. “He took it with that camera,“ she says, looking at author. Robin glances up. “You’re a dead sucker now,” says girl to trucker.
How, he asked, could he induce the common people. Black red-(backward)capped worker, white salmon-halter-topped secretary Chow Mobile approach. To be loyal and respectful? Black guy ketchupping something on tailgate, secretary leaning away from up-spurting Diet 7-Up, finger still in pull-ring. “Approach them with dignity,” said the Master. “Yale Industrial Service.” “Then they will respect you.” “Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Amarillo, El Paso.” “Show kindness toward your children.” “You got any milk today?” – Tony, peach-fuzz moustache. “And they will be loyal to you.” Robin reaching him a half-pint.
“Well, I guess the cow unloaded” – foreman. “Show piety toward your parents.” Friend of Tony stepping up:
“He oughtta give us one free, for not havin’ one yesterday.”
“Ninety cents” – Robin. “And they will be loyal to you.”
“How’d you come out so cheap buddy?” – Tony’s friend. “Promote the worthy.” “Oh, you got a little milk!” “Train the incompetent.”
“You’re so rich you don’t know what to do with all that money” – Robin. “That’s the best form of encouragement.” Robin, in clip-on shades, collects from middle-aged Chicano mustarding a submarine. Mower noise, sun-glare (10:35 a.m.), gas fumes unbearable. Sweat-drenched worker unloading 4 x 8 plasterboard, waist-up in yellow light, waist-down in black shadow. Cord in form of noose, wind-swayed, hanging in bay of attendant hut. Blue-shirted co-worker drops from dock, perfect two-point landing, two-seated Cessna passing overhead.
Final pre-break stop, “Honeywell Oklahoma City Operations.” Robin “Honk honk!” No sign of customers; tailgate down, side panel up anyway. “Boo!” Door “thump!” Yellow “Aries” tee shirt appearance, red bandana, stringy hair. Black and white “No Parking” in background. I do not see. “STOP / THORIZED / SONNEL / OUT,” view past corner. What use. Aries tee shirt placing two hotdogs on bumper. A man can be put to. Gloves on ground. Whose word cannot be trusted. Author out of truck: “UNAUTHORIZED / PERSONNEL / KEEP OUT,” red on white, yellow traffic light now visible beyond. How a wagon. Beige VW. Can be made to go. Rear plate: “REBAR-I.” If it has no yoke-bar. Unshaven welder, surly shop assistant silent snack selection.
“How much?” Or a carriage.
“How much?” If it has no collar-bar.
“A dollar and a nickel” – Robin politely. “A dollar ten.”
“Yu,” said the Master. Chow Mobile pre-lunchtime break. “Shall I teach you what knowledge is?” Under-I-40 truck-park, skid-row detritus: “When you know a thing.” Broken sherry bottle; Thunderbird pint (“Serve Chilled”); Thunderbird quart. “To recognize that you know it.” The remainder of a snot (?) rag; an empty, clear glass bottle, no label. “And when you do not know a thing.” Industrial hum, source undiscernible. “To recognize.” Phonebook page: “Bigalow S-Birdsong.” “That you do not know it.” White semi-circle basketball backboard. “This is knowledge.” “Fa-lop, fa-lop” of overhead-passing vehicle. No basket.
Downtown lunchtime stand, facing Justice Building. Wind strengthening street dust whip-up, heat unabating. “EQUAL AND EXACT JUSTICE.” Lawyers, secretaries, workers. “TO ALL MEN.” Unequally hungry. “OF WHATEVER STATE OR PERSUSION.” OKC Police car #276 passing, two white cops. “RELIGIOUS OR POLITICAL.” Judge exiting Justice, black tassel loafers. “ – THOMAS JEFFERSON.” “Govern the people by regulations,” said the Master. “Storage by the Hour.” “Keep order among them by chastisements.” Girl passing author almost says hello. “And they will flee from you.” Takes seat, park bench, glances back. “And lose all self-respect.” “Galleria Tower,” “Parkside Motor Hotel.”
Downtown departure. Willis Shaw Express, 5120 (number familiar, seen earlier?). Full-bodied Indian babe in Hawaiian oversmock, jaywalking. Hospitex white rig, blue stripe running lengthwise. Dolese cement truck, yellow letters on black rotating cylinder. “Govern them by moral force.” Author, soaked blue work shirt, Levis, approaching heat exhaustion. “Keep order among them by ritual.” Blue pants, blue shirts, BFI garbage men. “Then they will keep their self-respect.” Red “Day’s Inn,” orange super-saturated roof, yellow sunburst. “And come to you of their own accord.” Roadside pass-by images: Peterbilt white cab through windshield correction, open side window. White ground, lightning thrust in baby blue, yellow-outlined. Robin exhausted, silent.
“Timberlake Const. Co. Inc.,” bold serifs, Okla. City, Okla.,” ’50s script, side of truck, lunch-breaking heat-struck crew sitting under it. In the usages of ritual. Yale Industrial Service Chevy van on scene. It is harmony that is prized. Crewmembers speechless from exhaustion, point at snack items. Heavy cumulus mass on humid horizon, single electric tower standing against it. Worker’s Pinto, Michigan plates (Eastern Michigan University rear window decal); Ford Country Squire XE, OK plates, simulated wood paneling, whited with age. The Way of the Former Kings from this received its beauty.
Industrial park drive-by customer search, comestibles dwindling, ice long gone. Blinding mid-day light color washout. Used data processors on dock, Data Pathing Inc., 1204; NCR storage interior, pink fluorescent glow; desk fan, pink invoices stuck in it. Fat woman speaking slowly into desk-top mike: “Rich, you’re wanted on Line 3.” Pause. “Someone from St. Louis.” NCR boxes piled six tall. Matters both small and great depend upon it. 2:48 p.m., wall clock glass concentrating pink overhead fluorescent tubes into tiny bright dots. If things go amiss, he who knows the harmony will be able to attune them. Temperature fronting 104, home trip imminent. But if harmony itself. “First we have to wash the truck” – Robin. Is not modulated by ritual. “One more stop on the way.” Things will go amiss. Motel construction site.
“New Motor INN,” sign already up, carpentry roughed in, Ruffles bag, Coke can foreground discard. Roughneck in “Live to Ride” belt buckle. Fellow roughneck, 17, pointing at him: “He’s one of the world’s greatest liars.” Said the Master to Tzu-chang, who was studying the Han-lu (seeking preferment): “He must be takin’ actin’!”
“Hear much.” “It’s funny to see an old Coors drinker” – carpenter to co-worker. “But be cautious in speaking.”
“I quit drinkin’ Coors” – co-worker. “Maintain silence as regards doubtful points.” Supercruiser banking in for landing. Portly Indian mason, OU Sooners cap reversed, leads returning crew to worksite. “Then will you seldom find yourself in trouble.” Sunflowers intergrown with fence. “See much.” Pettibon E•X•Tendo forklift, backing up with measured beeps. “But ignore.” “God damn it,” says driver. “What is dangerous to have seen.” Bales of Thermafiber / Insulating Blankets / U.S. Gypsum piled at building corner. “And be cautious in acting on the rest.” Heat in shade oppressive, final customers approach. “Are you gonna take it?” Musty smell exuding from office. “You prick!”
“Is there only one?”
“Naw, there’s more than one” – Robin.
“He who seldom gets into trouble.” Truck hosedown, 240 West return (“Eastern Ave 1 Mile”). “About what he has said.” I-35 JCT, blinking dotted yellow arrow. “And seldom does anything.” Moore to Norman orange VW transfer. “That he afterward wishes he had not done.” Swerve under Shields Blvd., two-lane Interstate expansion. “East Fuji Gardens Japanese Restaurant.” “Hillsdale Free Will Baptist College.” “He will be sure.” Car pack forging ahead like motile herd. “Incidentally.” Broccoli brush tree growth. “To get his reward.” Water tower loom: “NORMAN.”
☯
Yellow fireplug, side mirror, “No Parking” sign (reversed). Pale blue-rose glow through pink-blossom feathery-leaf-green mimosa droops. Red lights at Classen. Eufaula traffickless. Octagonal “STOP” at University, white-shirted neighbor crossing street, north to south, dog on leash following.
Deserted house, southwest corner, Eufaula-Webster, shocking pink “No Trespassing” sign on black ground, white border. Cars departing spaces, front of First Christian Church. White two-door, windows up (air-conditioning on). Red-haired girl seated in baby blue Honda, white stripe on side connecting its two black tires. Man in too-long beige jacket crossing street, gets in cream sedan, Cleta D. sticker in rear window.
Eufaula-Santa Fe Greyling Apartments, elsewhere ambiance, other times: ’20s red brick, ’30s white trim, ’40s silver painted tile; basement entrance 203, 201. “FURNISHED – BILLS PAID.” First Baptist Church, hunched bunker-like, seen through parking lot. “In the morning,” said the Master, “hear the Way.” Dark house, branching elms. “In the evening.” Both catch remnants of failing light. “Die content.”
Railroad-crossing “X” on silver pole, bulbous projection above. Silver sedan crossing tracks. Silver plane passing west to east. Sun down, northern sky pale blue, pink-gauzed. Yellow car turns into street from south, crosses track, “fa-lap, fa-lap.” Yellow Rally Sport, black top, black hood, stops, heading north. Tall grass, breeze-bent, pushes against author notebook (“Diary,” made in Shanghai).
White tiered houses (two) read as single, gabled unit, underneath subtly humming telephone lines delicately ribbing eastern sky. Creosoted black, black-brown railroad ties, bound in steel, stacked beside track, three projecting authorward, beautifully displayed, grass grown waist-high against the pile, seed-heads nodding heavily.
White car heading south, headlights on. Two birds, past-pole flyby, one northward, one southward. Deep green horizon growth encroaching upward on pale green, pinkish blue; deep aura-filled space overhead emerging. Car with yellow parking lights streaming past. Second car, east to west. Those who err on the side of strictness. Full headlight beams. Are few indeed.
“NORMAN,” white on red brick (theory), grey on shadowed brown brick (practice), ancient railway station. Red Honda (burnt-orange Honda) slows to pass behind an orange (orange-grey) VW parked in grass beside the road. Nearby grasses wave-commencement. Black car passing, past, red lights blushing, driver slowing down for second set of tracks. Southeastern sky grey-dampened pale blue, water tower faint grey-blue, red warning light atop it flash-commencement. Single-alley-lamp-in-Northwest glow dominates transformer poles. A yellow inward-illuminated sign (middle distance) glows above an orange-painted railroad “STOP” (nearby). Lights in building other side of tracks turn whole windows yellow-white. A single blinking yellow indicator, southward turning white (dark grey) sedan.
Tiny winged-bug crawl across author’s page, single head-lamped motorcycle east to west. A gently thrumming jet, still sunlit, passes overhead. Red (grey-purple) nineteenth-century bricks visible through asphalt aperture. “78° / 8:29,” white-bulbed SNB sign. Gilt Edge Dairy silver stack rises into dimming blue, over white (beige) loading dock. Cars passing both directions under (now) fiery reds at Classen. “Reynolds Ford” through-window northward-facing baby blue, southward-facing yellow Fords. “At last,” he said, “I have someone with whom I can discuss the Songs.”
☯
Right at Classen (Porter), passing Owen (football) Field, white sign on silver pole, headlights striping street in yellow light. “OPEN” on darkened Dee’s Restaurant, semi-circular facade rimmed in pink and green neon. A black-on-white under-gable sign, “First Church of the Nazarene.” Double greens at Boyd turning to double reds. Duke Ai had asked Tsai Yu about the Holy Ground. White headlights coming on. Tsai Yu replied. Red taillights going past. “The Hsia sovereigns used the pine, the men of Yin the cypress, the men of Chou the chestnut tree.” Roadside trees now reading black. “To mark the Holy Ground.” Shield-centered “77 ”; “JCT 74-A.” “This they thought.” Boomer-Sooner Carwash. “Would cause the common people.” AA Tire Center. “To be in fear and trembling.” Route 9 overpass. “And so it was.”
“Welcome Noble City Limit.” Hearing this, the Master said: “Cain’s Grill,” black on white, deep red below. “What is over and done with.” Main Street. “One does not discuss.” Green rippled shingles, Pentecostal Church of God. “What has already taken its course.” Two kids, eight and ten, flitting past in shadows, barefoot. “One does not criticize.” A black sedan ahead of parked author taking orange of running lights. “One does not censure.” Light within the Pentecostal church. “What already belongs to the past.” Topeka, Atchison, Santa Fe, southern outskirts Noble, horn sounding. Author, train, heading south.
Our Master’s Way is simply this: Northern outskirts Lexington. Loyalty. Kerr-McGee station. Consideration. Bluish light arched out from pole, KM sign underneath in dimness. No sign of human presence. In the presence of a good man, think all the time how you may learn to equal him. Slatternly woman exits newly arrived car, enters station-store. In the presence of a bad man, turn your gaze within! Light on, VW passenger compartment, notebook out, window-down for “chirp” reception. He whose heart is set upon Goodness will dislike no one. Second car pulling in, red lights, on, off. Woman stepping to door of store in orange top, blue pants. Portable electric sign through windshield bug-spatter: flashing arrow, two of four yellow bulbs out, three reds of arrowhead on (for two counts), off (for one). Black letters beneath, corrugated inside-lighted white ground: “NIGHTCRAWLERS, $1.35.” Store grimly lit, neon in windows, “Coors,” “Lite.” Overhead “KERR-McGEE,” vertical stroke of K in blue, diagonal strokes in red, M in three vertical strokes.
Purcell, “HEART OF OKLAHOMA,” white billboard ground, red heart, highways (numbered) entering/leaving it. Without Goodness a man cannot for long endure adversity. Above [Christ on cross depiction]: “HE WAS IN THE WORLD / AND THE WORLD WAS MADE BY HIM.” Cannot for long enjoy prosperity. “AND THE WORLD KNEW HIM NOT.” The Way,” said the Master, “makes no progress.” Bad muffler of car mounting hill. “I shall get upon a raft and float out to sea.” Someone opening curtain, house behind “Ann’s Place,” to observe author activity.
“Welcome to Purcell Bowl,” a foursome standing at lane, in yellow golf shirt, blue tennis shirt, blue bowling shirt (accordion arm joints), white cowboy shirt. “Men and Women Singles Alibi Tournament.” Mama with baby: “Y’all’ll have to come over.” Baby in red face, cheeks crinkly with rash.
“You bowl anymore, or quit?” – friend drinking beer from Budweiser cup. Mama, cig in mouth, turns away to keep smoke from baby’s face.
“Quit.” Three one-dollar bills on scoring table, male foursome. Accordion Arm Joints up to bowl, in blue and white “Hughes” cap, heavy leather wrist supporters. Clientele sparse.
The Master said: Author, about to depart Purcell. “I have never yet seen a man who was truly steadfast.” Still seated on still-warm concrete steps leading to deserted Main Street building entrance. Someone answered saying: Heavy locust background buzz. “Shen Ch’eng.” Tire squeal, as yellow pickup turns off Main into Canadian, heads east. “Ch’eng!” the Master said. A single, hovering mosquito casts its shadow on the page. “Ch’eng is at the mercy of his desires.” As beer bottle crashes on pavement up street, two pickups peel out in opposite directions. “How can he be called steadfast?” A yellow van, in white side panel, a red pickup, nose-to-nose, Main Street median parking, radio blare, teenie-youth drinking beer. A slowly-cruising cop car enters Main. Radio volume-decrease, two heads sinking below pickup dash.
Said Tzu-kung. Main shopping. “We are permitted to hear Our Master’s views.” OK Barber Shop, Kiddy Kloset, Hedges. “Concerning culture.” INCOME TAX. “And the outward insignia of Goodness.” LA-Z-BOY Sale: Love Seat $499, Recliner $249, both displayed on golden brown, heavily vacuumed carpet, Nearly New Furniture Shop. “But about man’s nature.” “Let Us Help You With All Your Banking Needs” – McClain County National Bank. 10:01 / 70°. “And the ways of Heaven.” Oil paintings on Masonite (twiggy trees; barn from under autumn bough; windmill). “He will not tell us anything.” White K, Kiwanis International circle, blue trash barrel.
Main Street median youth activity. “Well whadda we got?” – 20-year-old portly working girl, seated on pickup hood, to pregnant friend, standing as she drinks Sonic milk shake. Gross scream from passing car. Queen Fashions, Treasure Chest Jewelry, Mike’s Health Center. When Tzu-lu heard any precept. Two pickups, one green, one pale blue. And he was still trying to put it into practice. Drivers stopping to chat. His one fear. Black pickup. Was that he might hear some fresh precept. Heading south.
Front steps of Post Office. Their music. Purcell. Began with a strict unison. OK. Soon the musicians were given more liberty. 73080. Tire squeal; high-pitched, falling, “Hey!” – portly girl, hood of median-parked pickup. But the tone remained harmonious. Country music issuing from cab speakers. Black-pickup return, heavy manifold sputter. Brilliant. Second tire-screech. Consistent. Portly, pregnant girls in conversation responding. Right on till the close. Enormous bugs in streetlight aureole, constellations overhead in cloudless abyss.
Vainly. Hotel McClain sign, paint eroded. Have I looked for a single man. Neon tubing still in place. Capable of seeing. Windows plywood-boarded. His own short-comings. Black pickup occupant screams at author, driver peeling a U-turn. And bringing the charge home against himself. Second pickup occupants comment. B.B. Barbershop underneath hotel. In a hamlet of ten houses. Farmers Insurance Group. You may be sure of finding. Doorway filled with indoor-outdoor carpet. Someone quite as loyal. Life, Liability, Fire. And true to his word. Auto, Truck, Burglary. As I. Agent “DUB ADAMS” on door, B and A almost rubbed away by pushing hands. But I doubt if you would find. Couch in vestibule, gold velour. Anyone. Folded day’s paper on middle cushion. With such a love. “United States of America, Home of the Brave” poster (faded). Of learning. Faces of the Presidents lined up in a row. 10:37 (radio clock, edge of desk); Muriel Magnum cigar box, ceramic leaf ashtray. “Take One.” So said the Master. (Brochure rack.) “Enjoy Carefree Cruising”; “Homeowners Package”; “What to Do in Case of an Accident.”
Norman return, Route 74, 12-miles-from-Purcell drilling site. Said the Master: White tower of dark-sky back-contrasted light. Tseng Wen-chung. Enormous yellow bit assembly suspended mid-tower. Kept a Ts’ai tortoise in a hall. Pumping diesel steady hum. With the hill pattern on its pillar tops. Squeak of mewling winch. And the duckweed pattern on its king-posts. Steel wires in tower shaking from side to side. Of what sort, pray, was his knowledge? Double searchlight illumination, red dirt of road embankment, green grass. Moth, bug companions in ever steady light-source congregation. A dozen cars and pickups parked, headed in towards rig; men moving on catwalk, tower base.
Main Street Downtown I-35 Norman turnoff. Of Tzu-ch’an the Master said. Holiday Inn. That in him were to be found. Five-pointed white neon star. Four of the virtues. Spikes in pink, green, yellow, blue, all emerging out of it. Which belong to the Way. “Holiday Inn” in green-neon-outlined script. Of the true gentleman. Green on the windshields of cars parked near the sign. “Howard Johnson’s” (orange) across street, immense jungle gym of federal highway road sign spanning Main. Air cooler, locust buzz still high. Motion of passing autos heard in roadway sign-structure as sympathetic vibrations. He was, it was said, always near the Way. Knocking, steady motion.
Main Street downtown approach. In his private conduct. Parking lot of Sterrs, excavation halted. He was courteous. Yellow flashers in mysterious cat-eye rhythm. In serving his Master. The Brass Planter, single lamp backlighting plants. He was punctilious. Whine-up of accelerating autos, flip-flipping over concrete expansion divider. Blackness dominating; blurry whites of streetlamps. In providing for the needs of the people. Norman High in darkness. He gave them. Adventures in Travel Limited. Even more than their due. 11:33 / 29C, “Hardees.” “NORMAN LUMBER,” O of Norman, U of Lumber in red, remainder black. In exacting service. Black and white cop car cruising. From the people. “SAFEWA” red, yellow VW parked out front. He was just. “ONE” of “FIRESTONE” visible beyond darkened Dairy Queen sign. “Downtown Shopping Center” lights out, author turning. Two in-lot black-and-whites side-by-side conversing.
☯
Said the Master: “Dear Sheila, Once again I find myself in The Town Tavern.” “How transcendent.” Steam in blown wisps, brown coffee, overhead light reflections in it. Stacey in khakis, concerned look. “Is the moral power.” Stacey’s Allen in brown cap, khaki shirt over white tee shirt, a dozen pens/pencils in shirt pocket. “Of the Middle Use.” Sugar dispenser on yellow-glow deep-grained pine table. “That it is but rarely found.” Light off Allen’s glasses. “Among the common people.” He suspiciously eyeing author. “Is a fact long admitted.” Barbara active, Stacey active, Mary active, dealing with influx.
“What are you all writing up so fast in here?” – white-haired woman next to author talking to youth gaggle. Allen up, silent conference with Stacey, crumpled napkin, empty water glass, Oklahoma Daily left behind. Kim at counter in Whittier tee shirt, white with blue collar. Ponytail flips as she moves behind Patrick, his back to restaurant interior. “In just 2 weeks this place has become a part of me …” Karen arrival, shades, new sandals. “… or I a part of it.” Mary, in “Los Alamos Swim Team” tee shirt, refills coffee. Alison, up from writing, scoops ice herself. Stephanie in yellow terry-cloth sleeveless shirt reaches up to hug Mary. Darrell checking out the scene, talking to John, beginning to write.
“I want to once again try to show you in a letter what this place holds for me.” “You know what they’re doin’?” – Barbara. “They’re writin’ a paper about The Town Tavern.” “Upon entering I feel some strong positive force. It is almost as if I can feel the waves of intellectual energy that are being produced.” “Some people” – Stacey, by way of explanation to new arrivals – “need inspiration.” Patrick stylishly mopping countertop. Wrings out cloth, flips excess water at Kim, who dodges it. “$2.50 SPECIAL $2.50/CABBAGE ROLLS.” “I know that I am merely romanticizing what I see but their [sic] must be some truth as most of my best papers and all of my best letters are written right here, Sheila, I wish you could be here to see this …” “My house is sold!” – Karen.
Said Jan Ch’iu: Strong woodsman-hippie in jeans, plaid shirt, leaning with both hands on Stacey, waitress Mary’s table. “It is not that your Way.” Fly on Los Alamos Mary’s letter to Sheila, author brushing it aside. “Does not commend itself.” Vicki arrival, white soft smock, shaking out water from curly locks. But rather that it demands a power.” Sky grey, rain stopped. “That I do not possess.” “There’s not much to do” – Vicki. Said the Master: Patrick whistling, eye on Barbara filling glasses with crushed ice. Cook in corduroy tam behind Heinz gallon tomato can, plastic basket with jellies for toast. “He whose strength gives out.” Appearance of Laura, pen, money envelope in hand, ready to pay Kim. “Collapses during the course of the journey (the Way).” Paula talking; looking about; wondering at author/instructor’s observation. “But you deliberately draw the line.” Leans left-handed over notebook, glances back to gather information.
“Vicki! Vicki!” someone calls, attempt to distract her from counterside conversation. Karen, now sitting next to Allen, holds forth on house sale, dark glasses mounted on head. Paula, turned about to study counter, catches look from Darrell, looking for detail no one else has seen (assignment). “Hey, that’s that famous photograph – no, that’s a painting” – new arrival, guy in black over-easy shag. “Who did that painting?” – to Stacey.
“Tony.” Darrell listening, left hand covering words just written.
“When was that, about ten years ago?” Mary returning from fridge with o.j., stands by Stephanie, both hands in cloth waitress wallet. Resumes seat, arm on hip, yellow-shirted Stephanie drinking orange juice with both hands.
Karen D. arrival. Takes seat opposite author. “Madison, my sources tell me you’re in trouble.”
“Karen, why don’t you just move along.” Karen D. departure. Juke up. Patrick leaving on break with black friend. Fat guy walks to icer, fills glass without scoop. Karen D. asks if she can sit opposite Allen. Allen agrees, eyes averted. Stacey, red-faced, takes seat beside him, eyes also averted from Karen D. Mary leans over, pad on table, takes order from Karen D. Waitress Karen: “Stephanie, don’t touch the dog, it smells.” Alison, corner booth, scratching part in hair. Laura working at Coke dispenser, leafing through, sorting, distributing slips of paper.
Stacey leaves bill at her own place amidst newspaper disorder. New song on jukebox. Allen, Stacey continue to stonewall Karen D., who carefully takes out pen, notebook, only to have Mary arrive with order. Steven appearance, 1920s golfing cap, dirty corduroys, shirt in broad green stripes, books clutched against hip. Door on Boyd opens, couple standing in air to gaze at seating prospects. “Who expects to leave a house except by the door?” Basket (three-tiered): “How then is it?” Top (empty). “That no one follows.” Middle (one banana). “This Way of ours?” Bottom (two oranges).
“I never sent that letter” – L.A. Mary, watching as author transcribes it. “Can I leave? ” – Jennifer to instructor. New song, Steven pouring coffee. Many people earnestly writing. Instrumental intro over, Eagles begin. Grey-tinged black shag leaving tip, drops coins on floor, picks them up one at a time. Steven offering instruction to L.A. Mary regarding new song choice.
Coffee cup suddenly crashes at author’s rear, epileptic seizure individual almost falling to floor from elevated booth. Waitress Mary to scene, cleaning mess with foot on towel. Victim aided to upright position, wide-eyed, stroking hair, attitude of resignation.
Two-minute-after back-to-normal look from Stacey, Vicki standing behind her, stroking her arm, white cowboy hat, serene tellus mater pose. L.A. Mary taking seat next to victim. “Schooner!” – waitress Mary. Discusses third song choice: “It was the closest thing I could follow up Devo with.” Waitress Mary returning with schooner of beer.
Karen D., ragged cutoffs, tennis shirt, drinks last of water, gathers up notebook, moves catlike past counter, out door. Stacey leans toward Allen, gasping, drawing red-faced breath. Karen waitress, elbow on table, cig burning, nail-strokes neck, smiles at author. Stacey now redder than ever. “Click, slap, cluck” – refrigerator door closing. Said the Master: Stacey in momentary relief, turns to waitress Karen who, in profile, continues rapid-fire sympa discourse. “To prefer it.” Paula putting hand on John’s shoulder. “Is better than only to know it.” Laura puts tip of pen in mouth; yawns; looks at author. “To delight in it.” Mason, opposite her, sips on straw. “Is better.” Light wind in trees through plate-glass window. “Than merely.” New counterperson. “To prefer it.” Pulling silverware from washer.
“Oh, my God, they’re clearing out!” Vicki, class departing, shoots author sideways slo-mo glance. Patrick returning, black comb in rear pocket. “You don’t look good at all” – someone to Stacey.
“You could even crawl into one of my robes” – Vicki. Stacey pouring herself another coffee. Black man, central table, stroking semi-bearded chin, awaiting menu arrival. White friend, “Success Is Anywhere” decal-pressed-on tee shirt, takes seat opposite him. Terminix man arrival, green pants, white shirt, orange logo. Talks to Mary, picks up Stephanie, keys in hand. College kid through window, east to west.
☯
Only one who bursts with eagerness. “I like the new turf” – Jacob. Do I instruct. Owen Field. 6:30 / 87°. Receivers, white uniforms, blue dickeys; defensive backs in white; coaches in red shorts. “My brother from Carmel and his date …” – guy behind us. “It doesn’t make any difference to me, just what Susie and Danny …” – a father planning family’s Southern Cal trip. Middle-aged girl, guy ahead of us, “SHIRLEE,” “JIM” tee shirts, matching white-stitched jeans. Sky cloudless blue.
Only one who bubbles with excitement. “There’s Barry” – John.
“Where?”
“Down there talkin’ to that guy.” Barry blows whistle.
“There’s Mike Trepps down there – father behind us. Styled-out black chicks walking down aisle, white drink cups in red-nail hands, crisscross halter tops, white shorts. First-string defense, offense in passing drill, crowd growing restless.
Kids under scoreboard, tee shirts caught in brilliant sun. 6:38 / 86°. “TIME OUTS LEFT. QUARTER. TIME OUTS LEFT.” Late slanting light catches aisle seats in south end zone. Three flagpoles, flagless, white, Bud Wilkinson Complex behind.
“Testing.” 7:03 / 86°. “See Us. The Sooner the Better” – Oklahoma City Times ad, paper perused by businessman ahead of us, tieless, pants of plaid $400 suit. Hawk-beak red-haired 55-year-old smiles at pre-game antics. Fans descending aisle, white cups, red “OU Sooners,” cardboard containers of nachos, cheap cheese. 7:06 / 85°. Backfield continues passing drill, defensive secondary coached by grey-haired 59-year-old, dark glasses, gesturing dramatically. Crowd quiescent. Channel 4 cameraman, assistant with blue Portapak, standing between 5 and 0 of 50. “He’s runnin’ second string halfbacks” – hawk-beak to blond, bare-legged wife. Red-shirted receiver sandwiched between two defensive backs. “Don’t rack him up too bad now.”
“Pop, look at all that stuff on the field” – Jacob. Players picking up equipment, preparing for scrimmage. Barry, white coach shirt, red collar, red shorts, prowling sideline. Officials on field, ball at 50.
If I hold up one corner. “Ball now at the 42 yard line of the defense” – announcer, scrimmage underway. And a man cannot come back to me. “Stanley Wilson, blown dead at the 37 yard line. Wilson stopped by Greg Sims.” With the other three. “And his shoe taken off” – Jacob, imitating announcer’s voice. I do not continue the lesson. Stanley Wilson, electrifying run. “Stopped at the four yard line.” Baby cries behind us.
“Kelly Phelps, touchdown,” coaches in semicircle behind offensive team. I should prefer someone who approached difficulties. “The kick is no good.” With due caution. Whistles whistle together. Who succeeded by strategy. “Enough whistles!” – Jacob, whistling. Light through holes in sportswriter deck spotlighting single fan seated opposite (eastern) side. “Second down eleven.” Stadium lights on. 7:24 / 84°. Black defensive lineman swinging arms on sideline. Sudden sun downrush leaves stadium in light loss.
☯
6:30 pre-dawn, corner-University-and-Symmes-church-parking-lot concrete-car-stop sit. Scarcely enough light to write. Double-clef train moan, north-to-south passage. Single streetlamp before dowdy-massive McFarlin Methodist. The Master did not aim at a roosting bird. Two light posts, empty parking lot. Author unable to find lines on notebook page.
6:40 pink glow emerging above electric-lamp-lit-green trees, trees interspersed with yellow, orangish lights (two), on in houses behind. Pink of sky at horizon suffused with blue. Star above/to right of tower, dark blue behind, higher-up Orion fading. Crickets thinning, harmonizing in dawn anticipation. Carefully measured pedestrian footsteps heard over solemn hum, Noble-descending train. She (pedestrian) crosses street putting distance between herself and author. High-overhead wispy clouds, detached, serene. Breeze unfurling notebook pages, light of in-lot lamp illuminating solitary pool. Train still softly audible. Quiet. Depth perception. Plenitude.
Foot-of-McFarlin-steps down-University-Boulevard curb view. Large spreading elm, beneath-its-branches green of traffic light. Light now red. Red light under spreading elm. Red (now green) seen under row of streetlights in perspective diminution. Nearby treemass, particulars still undifferentiated. Bright western star above tree, tree above house, house above faintly greening grass. Grass leading to street (asphalt); asphalt leading to sidewalk (concrete), concrete under heel of author’s boot, knee supporting notebook (lines now faintly visible). Streetlight halo, light on post, light lighting front of unfinished apartment building.
Black Chevy pickup past, red taillights. He fished with a line. East-to-west fleeting car at Boyd. But not with a net. Black pickup now at red light (stopped at Boyd), its yellow left turn-indicator blinking. Turns. How utterly have things gone to the bad with me. Gone. Eastern delicate cream-rose cloudbank emergence. It is long now indeed. Cat moving in high unmown grass. Since I dreamt. Single star still flickering. That I saw the Duke of Chou. Subtle pattern of chipped yellow (yellow-green-gray) paint on curbside. Yellow (dark ochre) fireplug, other side of street, in wistful, dignified identity.
“God Loves You” – bumper sticker – “Whether You Like It Or Not,” car parked, boarding house, corner University-White (author up and moving). Two red airplane-warning-lights – car passing – atop Physical Sciences Center. Yellowish streetlight momentarily glows bright, as car scurries beneath it. Down quiescent-White-Campus-Corner approach, past First Presbyterian Sunday School, its red brick brightening. Yellow Dorito bag, crushed Taco Tico cup in white frame (parking place), black background, notebook atop parking meter for observation. Brown bag in damp grass, discarded sign propped against long wall.
Streetlight off, bulb still glowing orange. Guy in white tee shirt, red shorts filling tank at Sunshine Store, neon white overhead, red of left-on taillights, yellow luminescent Sunshine sign, Buchanan-White. General light intensity increase. Orange wooden sun sign, down street, yellow rays outstreaming, orange car right turning under it. Glossy red VW bug parking before Sunshine Store, overlooked by yellow smiley face of O in “STORE,” red eye-dots, red moon-crescent smile. Next-door yellow Golden Cue building, green roof circled by birds in sunrise anticipation. Still-not-visible sun aglow behind Graham’s Shoe Shop’s shoe-shaped sign, silvered side of stop sign facing author. Wind whips silver-sided gum wrapper down White, through Buchanan intersection. Orange Toyota into Sunshine lot for gas, red Dodge pausing at corner, Yellow Celica parking, opening door to greet author: “I’ve been here before anybody.” Yellow VW floats stop (White Street), muffler rumbling on to Asp, where light of just-risen sun dazzles white on baby blue roof. Green Porsche up street, stopping before Toto’s, red-shirted driver, blue pants, steps out. Two girls promenading Asp, heading south.
Author across-White northside storefront investigation. The wise man delights in water. Graham’s Shoe and Boot Shop window. The good man in mountains. Tiny dusty baby cowboy boots. For the wise move. Dusty buckles (“Schlitz,” “Kawasaki,” “United States of America”). But the good stay still. Horseshoe set with Susan Anthony dollars, Indian head nickels. Sunshine Store reflection: CTE [smiley face] ECI [smiley face] REEB [smiley face] DOOF, letters reversed, smiley faces seemingly normal.
Aquarius Gift Shop. Piece of paper flipping up in breezy street. “The Urban Climber/SOLD HERE.” “Sorry, No time to talk, I’m late for work” – one climber to another, sheer wallface. Cutesy ceramics (full-cheeked Beetle-cut musicians). An orange tree set in octagonal pot. The wise are happy. Owls in plastic oval, oak leaves behind them. The good, secure. Pegasus with stars, crescent moon, rainbow. Monkey chewing bubblegum. Said the Master: Campus TV. “But give me a few more years.” “TV REPAIR,” letters in homemade silver foil, strung across window. “So that I may have spent.” TV sets awaiting repair. “A whole fifty years in study.” $5.00 rung up on register. “Then shall I be free.” Fuseable resistors, AC jacks, AC adaptors. “Of error.” Phone plugs, Battery D transistors, H.V. Putty. “I for my part.” TOTO’s Spanish stucco. “Am not one of those.” Asp view: “Who have innate knowledge.” Sha-Sha’s pink, electric ice-cream cone, seen through overhang of deserted, overpainted, boarded-up Mobil station. “I am simply one who loves the past.” Silver car Sunshine arrival. “And investigates it.” Girl in salmon short shorts out to open trunk. “With diligence.” Five-pointed stars in Deli City’s sidewalk, colored beads in pink cement spelling out “H E R O.”
Wind gusting. Custom Hi-Fi window: “SALE/SALE.” House of Travel window: “Little Red Art Club/Little Red Hot Chili Supper.” “Joe Dickens/Neil Cronk/At the Lovelight/Tonight.” University Plasma Center; Hoops; Impressions. A pool of standing water, two popcorn kernels in it. The Co-Ed Shop, The Added Touch, The Kids’ Loft. Two pigeons, mid-street, pecking at nothing. Motorcycle revs, Sunshine departure. “WHITE ST” sign pole, Little Kings bottle on its side at base, Miller’s bottle, Bud bottle, upright together. “BOOMER” letters running down, Owen Field west expansion deck above them, merging into white cloud.
☯
Sha-Sha’s interior, Leslie, Tod, Darla pausing across-street to study Clark Cleaner’s front, window reflections. I have transmitted what was taught to me. Yellow fire truck quickly down Asp. Before they enter Sha-Sha’s. Without making up anything. Connie approaching door on crutches (torn ligament). Orange VW parked, diagonal space, this (west) side of street. Debbie, Alison, Jan arrival. Clark four-pronged TV antenna (silver), two prongs in shadowed grey, two in sunlit white. Jennifer, Darla, Adam crossing east to west. Parking meter portrait. Air-conditioned cool/cold, radio muted; stools, installed for street view, all full, late arrivals reaching for chairs, scraping on tile floor. Red Ford parks in front of window. “NOEL J” (belt embossed) puts penny in meter. Sunlight caught in amber turn signals.
“What is it they’re moving over there?” – Darla. Black sedan, yellow stripe, down Asp. Green-tennis-shirted girl, red running pants, opening metallic bronze Mercury door. Two men with dolly move mysterious object into Clark’s. I have been faithful to. Woody – Town Tavern cook – passing. And loved the ancients. Retired Greek admiral, tie, European briefcase, crosses east to west, continues southward. Bright red Izod-shirted Sam, late-hippie-attired Tod, just arriving, black Sirocco, yellow Ford, blue Chevy passing behind them. Cyclist, blue shirt, blue pants, blue backpack, silver spokes glinting.
I have listened in silence. Lovely 20-year-old, long, patterned skirt, passes, conversing with leather-faced Indian dude. And noted what was said. Gentle silly freshman patter, notebooks opening, pens out, Darla brushing her hair back in serious notation preparation. Motorist descent, blue Ninety-Eight; services meter as wind whips yellow, red, green plaid skirt, baring leg, flipping straight blond hair in face. Steeple of shop complex, white triangular cupola under wooden pyramidal spire, seated atop baby blue roof. Co-Ed Shop, Hoops, Impressions. Two guys passing, orange, green tee shirts. The Added Touch, The Kids’ Loft, Debbie recording names. I have never grown tired of learning nor wearied of teaching others. Iranian, two-day beard-growth, observing – eyebrow levitation – authorial activity. White Coors delivery truck halt, driver out, slightly pudgy Indian babe, passenger seat, hair disheveled. These at least are merits I can confidently claim.
Thirtyish woman, turquoise smock, exiting Clark’s as C (red) F (green) Consolidated Freightways pulls up, rear red lights flashing. Operator opens doors to reveal truck interior. Jennifer recording: “brown cartons with pink tape on them.” Green-capped mover leaves dolly at door, makes final entrance, voucher in hand. “ONE HOUR” (bright green) “MARTINIZING” (carmine), waffled white ground. Noel J return, gold wedding ring; takes shades off rear view mirror, puts them on; turns to back out, waiting impatiently. Pink tennis-shirted sorority girl opening Clark’s door, half visible behind CF truck. Woman in turquoise smock hands pink receipt to blue tee-shirted driver. Short-haired middle-aged blonde, white halter top, Oklahoma Daily under sunburnt arm, passes parked Ninety Eight, Sha-Sha’s interior glistening on its surface, around-corner Custom Hi Fi reflected/distorted in bumper.
“Yes, WE’RE OPEN” – window of Miller’s Bicycle Shop, reflected yellow Toyota, parked around corner, Deli City front. Guys in green, orange tee shirts returning. Bicycle shop reflections of TOTO’s red “AZZIP” (letters reversed) “NAILATI” (green). White, blue and red Pabst truck down Asp. The thought that I have left my moral power untended. The Jockey Strap Saloon. My learning unperfected. Letters incompletely overtraced in blurred black spray paint. That I have heard of righteous men. Norman Police passing. But been unable to find them. Tree in breeze over muted off-green house. Have heard of evil men. Stoner in “Jag’s Up the Alley” tee shirt. But been unable. Bleach-blond dancer. To reform them. Daisy-Mae front-tied shirt (white). It is these thoughts that disquiet me. Jan in red-based Hawaiian shirt flipping hair back with middle-finger-ringed hand.
Coffee depleted (Wilmington plastic cup insert, red holder), almost spherical drops beading deep-polyurethane-finished hardwood Sha-Sha countertop. John departing, other freshmen eager to. Ninety Eight departing, blonde with blue-clad companion. Immediate Monte Carlo replacement, two girls, driver in white hat, friend in blue shorts. Latter takes hat off driver’s head, mid street, puts it on, as both enter 753 Asp. Black-and-white repassage. Clark’s in heavily-worked 1940s architectural mode, over-door air-conditioner jutting out. “BOOMER” sign in cream letters, clear-neon outlined, deep red ground. Window (writing) ledge lined with paired salt and pepper shakers.
Sha-Sha freshman population down to six – Jennifer departure – five. Corresponding authorial-activity intensity-increase. Jan. Said the Master: Red writer’s manual face down. “Even.” Kevin. “When walking.” White (ruled) paper (folded), visible in pocket. Departing. Silver Rabbit arrival. “In a party of no more than three.” Jan, Kevin standing outdoors, deep in conversation. “I can always be certain of learning.” Connie departure. “From those I am with.” Author to outdoor station, notebook open.
“Next time around …” – Kevin.
“You gonna do that?” – Darrell, exiting-with-Darla-writing-conference. Blond Benson/Hedges filter smoker crossing street, wind whipping hair.
“I was thinking I might …” – Connie, book, crutch in same hand, smiling. “There will be good qualities.” Yellow “The Omelet Shop” awning in dark Clark’s glass reflection. “That I can select for imitation.” Connie waving goodbye to Darrell with other hand, as she talks to Kevin. “And bad ones.” Blonde with lighted cig, macramé bag, entering Clark’s. “That will teach me.” “ONE WAY” on post. “What requires correction.” Author alone. “In myself.” Connie, Kevin departed.
☯
Nighttime Sha-Sha scene, author alone at counter. Yellow Celica, orange Superbeetle; red “Enjoy Coke” (reversed), indoor glass reflection, white swirl. Black girl crossing asphalt, hand-in-hand with black boyfriend-football player. Clark’s yellow-lit interior bleeding around orange window panel. Red taillights, rear of white Ford pickup. Headlights, southward streaming traffic, yellows of parking lights beneath. Overhead fan motion, beneath-it red-shirted counter-attendant stasis, window reflection. Popcorn display case, yellow kernel-pile pressed against glass, backlit by orange-glowing heatlamp. Just as lavishness leads easily to presumption. “Miller’s” (black) “Bicycle” (grey) “Shop” (black). So does frugality to meanness. Sign in regular rectangularity. Brown-tee-shirted passerby, steady, bearded, forward gaze. “ONE WAY” in black on white (black words on white arrow, black ground, white trim). But meanness is a far less serious fault than presumption. Disco ballad pulse, out-of-sync, eerie overhead-fan ceiling shadow.
J., John Sha-Sha entrance, J. remaining indoors, mouthing a line of melancholy baritone, John returning to street (research intention). Fiat driver emerges from black convertible, yellow Izod, blue Italian V-neck, tight short-sleeve embracers. Counter attendant’s female assistant in “IF YOU NEED A WOMAN” red, white-lettered tee shirt. Eight of four (clock), reversed (“eight-o-eight”). Yellow Corolla, black stripe, passing, behind-counter girl (reflection) moving in direction counter to it. Ice-cream-cone-eating frat emerging from Fiat backseat. Sky occlusion (white city-lit clouds overtaking black ground).
“Orin’s Fine Pizza” surrounded by counter-clockwise-flashing yellow bulbs. Lamp recession southward – three to Boyd, where green traffic light shines through two successive windshields. Plop, shuffle, slap (J.’s flaps, tile floor, research resituation). Dog in older parked sedan, muzzle projection through almost-closed window. Eighteen-year-old girl jogging south, jeans, blue sweater, white blouse collar protruding. Long-haired T. T. habitué, white sneakers, passing in opposite direction. Red plastic Indian head “RETAIL LIQUOR STORE” arrow; white, paint-peeling background on wooden diamond.
Southward-to-T. T. venue change, passing “Tennis Bums, Inc.,” “ANY CHURCH THAT MEETS IN THE BOOMER IS WORTH CHECKING OUT.” Liberty D red neon “OPEN.” Town Tavern table setting. The Divine Sage. Super Serve napkin dispenser. I can never hope. “Coors” ashtray. To meet. Nervous conversation upstart attempt. The most I can hope for. Next table. Is to meet a true gentleman. Vicki arrival, water, saucer-filled black coffee. “Are you sure that’s all you want.”
“Yeah.” A faultless man.
“Are you sure that’s all you want?” I cannot hope ever to meet. Baby gazing from booth with preternatural intelligence. Streetlight through window, stanchion in form of crucifix. The most I can hope for. Traffic light intensely saturated red. Is to meet a man of fixed principles. Two-girl, two-guy booth complement, Vicki arriving for towel work, table clearance. Red “TT” in white circle, painted on diamond-shaped mirror. Patrick behind-counter window reflections. Yet all around I hear. Voice to left: “Do me a favor.” Nothing. “Do me a favor.” Pretending to be Something.
“What?” Emptiness.
“Finish that cigarette.” Pretending to be Fullness. Request met with silence, smoke. Penury. “PLEASE USE JUKE BOX UP FRONT.” Pretending to be Affluence. (Table-side jukebox sign.)
“Is that all you need?” Even a man of fixed principles. Vicki, serene smile, refilling cup. Will be none too easy to find. Steve, next table, at work on Plato, overhead light darkening bulbous purple elbow scar. Black shirt, hand on chin-to-ear. Solitary mulatto in green hospital smock-top; blond hippie-worker; non-descript 19-year-old in nondescript garments. L.A. Mary taking seat opposite Steve, “Dialogues of / LATO” visible on pink ground, not in fact the book he is presently reading. L.A. Mary’s hair black (wet from swimming), shining. “I’m goin’ to the doctor, now, my head hurts so” – behind-author voice of Laura. There may be those. “Madison” – L.A. Mary between tables – “I thought about you yesterday.” Who can do without knowledge. “You gotta hang out on Campus Corner.” But I for my part. “Some game day.” Am certainly not one of them. “Especially.” To pick out what is good. “With your taste for color.” And follow it. Two-couple simultaneous food preparation. To see much. Ketchupping fries, peppering meat, salad-dressing reach. And take due note of it. Steve listening, gazing warmly, as L.A. Mary goes through list of names. This is the lower of the two kinds of knowledge. Wooden bowl dropping behind counter. (The higher being – Waley – innate.) Steve sneezing.
Corner, Asp and Boyd, concrete slab-sit. He must not sit on a mat. Breeze in at-hand planter plant. Which is not straight. Black shadow over seat edge. Car screech, westbound, all-red taillight impression. Steel blue Chevy, grey Scottsdale; single small white car on-come, two students hopping to cross street before its arrival. Red over Boyd, green over Asp; red over Asp, green over Boyd. Full moon over Engineering, cloud-suffusing aura. Red Ford pickup down-Boyd bright-in-dark left-turning Botie’s exit. White Trans-Am over-street-irregularity “hump-thump.” Green pickup red-pause, three yellow bulbs atop cab. Union clock pale face-glow. Two yellow lights at Jenkins; two red dots atop Physical Sciences.
Seated. At home. Cross-Boyd semicircle. In his. Canna-ringed night park. Native village. Locust drone, car hum, moon in cloudy swirl. His manner. Flicker of distant lightning. Is simple. Two globes, nearby university building entrance. And unassuming. Sky-rayed, NW-to-SE cloud striations. As though he did not trust himself to speak. Four empty game-day beer cups, translucent, supported by recently cut grass. But in the ancestral temple. Band of light, Boyd-across, mellow-yellow softened. And at court. Cars in sweet highlight gleam. He speaks readily. Streetlight cross before Town Tavern, sound of car door closing, University-adjacent lot. Though always choosing his words with care. Grass still warm.
When the guest has gone. Seated. He reports. Granite-rimmed floral circle. The close of the visit. Flowers removed. Saying. Lightning flash. “The guest is no longer looking back.” Dim group of talking people stand before Union side entrance, single light shining on them. University water tower lit from beneath. On regaining his place. Grey above, silver below. He resumes. Blending into vagueness of cloud-washed inky blue. His attitude. Lit-from-beneath pale green deciduous tree. Of weariness. Yellow parking lights. And hesitation. Lightning flash.
☯
“THE UNION” (bulletin board), clock through window: 1:47. “Adult and Commuter Services, Alumni Offices, Annual Giving Office, Ballroom, Book Exchange, Career Planning & Placement, Commuter Center, Development Office, Faculty Senate Office.” “Do you want to be the secretary while I get those staples?”
“Sure, I’ll be here, you just take your time.” “Mall Shops & Restaurants, Meacham Auditorium.” “Where do I go to get something to eat?”
“Downstairs and to the left.” “Media Services.” “Check out the salads and see if they’re still alive.” “Meeting Rooms 159-165.
“Where’s that Ming Gallery at?” – Jan, walking past, on through glass doors with Debbie, right direction. “Ming Gallery, Rooms 1-7.” Oklahoma Daily sitting on lobby table: “BANOWSKY LOOKS TO ACADEMIC GAINS.” Interlocked “O” and “U,” upside down, red on red-bordered grey rug, facing freshman composition students as they enter: Sam, Eileen; Alison, Darrell. “For about 50 per cent of OU students” – Oklahoma Daily – “college life is incidentally academic.” John and J. “They sign petitions to have the foreign language requirement done in …” Paula. Someone stapling at information desk. Debbie (Ming Room return). “Rooms A-C, University Affairs.” Overhead fans circulating comfortable air-conditioned breeze. “Union Offices.” Oriental girl up steps, light blue shirt, white trim, yellow backpack; Caucasian girl, brown tennis shirt, dark glasses hung in V of neck, Oklahoma Daily in hand. “I’ll be right back” – returned receptionist leaving again.
“O.K.” – stand-in. “I’m just gonna put ‘G. call C.’”
“Right. If Bill Banowsky calls, you can spell it out.” Gothic arch, silver water fountain, Renaissance niche. Receptionist departs.
“There are pay phones downstairs” – stand-in to student asking for information. Jan eavesdropping, notebook open. Looks up from page at author-instructor, smiles, laughs.
TV Room. “I said, what’s going on in here?” – TV Action alert, white-suited space men, commander in pith helmet. Debbie and Jan seated across from author. “Do not panic. Repeat. Do not panic.” Jan whispering to Debbie. “They will be caught.” Debbie in white leather running shoes, tomboy cuffed jeans, plaid western shirt, enormous glasses (slipping down her nose). Brazen co-ed, leather sandals, metallic pink toenails, changes channel without consulting anyone; resituates herself, crosses arms over books in lap (red spiral OU notebook, Oklahoma Daily, yellow Strategic Marketing Problems). “I’ve got to get out of here” – TV voice.
“Not till you’re able” – TV nurse. Vertical hold defective, no one getting up to adjust it. Soap opera patient rising from bottom to top of screen; reappearing at bottom. Two Iranian student-viewers sitting attentive, back row of expensive chairs, each with single finger on cheek. Room full, all but two single chairs taken, Debbie and Jan sitting down in last free couch. Overweight salmon top arrival, candy bar in hand. “Scorpio was able to penetrate security” (new channel). Pubic bulge in too-tight jeans. TV horizontal distortion. Debbie, Jan glance at author; get up to go; linger a moment in doorway. TV adjusts itself. Turn into hallway. “I’m The Lone Ranger.” Phone rings across hallway. “All personnel are now under my command.”
Game room. J. in front of Asteroids Deluxe, reaching in pocket for change. Darrell with clipboard observing him, Sam observing Darrell. Paula, orange backpack discarded, notebook open, sits on polished floor, writing, oblivious of J., Darrell, Sam. “Da-dee-da” electronic melody. “Dee-da-dee.” Debbie, Jan, seated on floor, opposite Paula, black wall phone over Debbie’s head. Ceiling in Sooner red (rust-maroon). Co-ed enters, yellow hair, white shirt, green shorts, struggles to get wallet loose from backpack. Smiles at author – Debbie, Jan observation, Sam notation. “Whump!!” of book-filled backpack hitting ground, single dropped quarter rolling authorward. J., Darrell, Sam observing scene. Author picks up rolling quarter, deposits it in co-ed hand. John arrival (red OU baseball cap). Asteroids Deluxe “da-dee-da.” Debbie, Jan laughing. J. in conference with John, explaining what has happened.
Tod, Mason down steps, past author-instructor, U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station goal. Learn as if you were following someone. Mason in red Izod, pleated khakis. Whom you could not catch up with. Darla watching Tod. As though it were someone you were frightened of losing. Author at Air Force recruiting station. Do not enter a State that pursues dangerous courses. “Air” white, outlined in red, “Force” white, outlined in blue. Alison, Janice down steps, laughing at author-instructor activity. Swept-wing plane, one wing red, the other blue, white nose-tip. Alison, Janice sneaking out early. Nor stay in one where the people have rebelled. “Needed: Pilots, Navigators, Engineers.” Author moving along to Marine Corps station. Joins Paula contemplating fighter-bomber wall photo.
Jennifer, Eileen, end of hall, stand in barbershop door, chatting up barber, assistant, customer. He who holds no rank in a State. “Thank you all.” Exit together, short shorts, dipping with plastic spoons into plastic dishes of ice cream. Should not discuss its policies. Tod, exiting U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station, pauses at steps to question instructor: “Is our room still open?” Two black girls, one in red-, yellow-, blue-strapped sandals, passing by. Author continues on down-mall: “Bits and Pieces” (glassworks unicorn; solar blaze; scarab designs), “The Goodie Shop” (doughnuts; chocolate éclairs; pretzels), “The Copy Shop” (“Sing the Creation” poster [picture of Michelangelo God/Adam] “with the Norman Community Choral Society”; “Our Copy Shop Now Performs Miracles” poster, monk holding copies). Said Tzu-kung: “The Jewelry Shop.” “Suppose one had a lovely jewel.” Beautiful girl behind counter. “Should one wrap it up.” Hair tied back. “Put it in a box.” Pale blue “Sooners” tee shirt. “And keep it?” Under white jacket. “Or try to get the best price one can for it?” Two black inventory notebooks open on counter. Said the Master: Red TI adding machine. “Sell it!” Girl entering, expensive yellow sweater. “I myself am one.” Linen bermudas, wine clogs. “Who is waiting for an offer.” Hair in pink ribbon.
Newsstand display case of OU stickers. In Yu I can find. “University of Oklahoma” [football player]. No semblance. White on red. Of a flaw. “OK” [state of Oklahoma inside “O,” “OU” inside state]. Abstemious. “Oklahoma Baseball” [batter inside]; “Oklahoma Football” [runner inside]. In his own food and drink. OU mugs, OU ice chest. He displayed the utmost devotion. Phone ringing behind counter. In his offerings to spirits and divinities. American flag license plate. And saw to it. Little Red. That his sacrificial apron. Decked out in feathers. And ceremonial head dress. “Oklahoma” [side view of helmet]. Were of the utmost magnificence. “We’re #1.” “Can I show you something?” – sales clerk, replacing phone.
“No thanks, I’m just looking.”
“What about these cigars?” – gesturing toward adjacent case.
“Would you mind if I just described them?” Quizzical look, clerk turning to take dollar bill from customer. “Dutch Masters, 25¢” [Rembrandt figures in white background silhouette]. His place of habitation. “Rigoletto Black Jack.” Was of the humblest. “Muriel Magnum”; “Muriel Air.” And all his energy. “Antonio y Cleopatra” [opulent Egyptian scene: Antony in red tunic, gold undergarments]. Went into draining. “El Producto Bouquets.” And ditching. “Swisher Sweets.”
“What about these inflatable footballs?” – persistent sales clerk, sale finished. In him I can find no semblance. Touting enormous imitation footballs. Of a flaw. Red “OU” on white plastic.
“No thanks, I’m just writing.”
☯
Saturday-night Oklahoma Memorial Union re-inspection. Single glass ashtray, black stone slab, lobby table. Single yellow light of wall fixture (off-center from observation angle), center, Gothic arch. Said the Master: Beam on-wall position also off-center, symmetrically so. “First and foremost be faithful to your superiors.” Couple entrances, couple pass-bys. “Keep all promises.” Gay couple. “Refuse the friendship of all who are not like you.” Theatrical light impacting stairway landings. “I’m going upstairs to see if they’re there” – eight-year-old with mommy.
“They don’t want to be bothered, Cheyenne.” More couples. American guy mounting steps with gorgeous Hindu woman-girl, both pausing at top of stairs, he in youth disarray, she in worldly stocktaking. “The movie’s this way,” he says, spotting couples in line a moment after she has done so. Union manager out of lounge, down steps, keys at side officially swinging. Single cigarette in sand-filled quadrangular receptacle.
Meacham movie-going couples casual line-up, hirsute males, unusually attired females. Necktied manager passes, ignoring all. Guy hugs girlfriend, who looks at author pleasantly. Bronze bust of Lew Wentz, Founder, Lew Wentz Foundation, posed unpredictably by entrance. Girl, descending balcony stairs, spots boyfriend: “And if you have made a mistake.” “I was waiting for you, stupid.” “Do not be afraid of admitting the fact.” Beige hallway to University Offices, fashionable modexec academic décor. “And amending your ways.” “Vice President, 237.”
TV Room. Video vivid, voice subdued. “Hearty decaffeinated flavor.” Paramount star-circle surrounding mountain. Red-shirted, white-jumpsuited girl, up to change channels. “Love Boat” reflection in windowed false wall. Zoom to the love boat, two couples watching from love seats. Air conditioner in steady breeze-“whoosh.” “This is Mrs. Mitchell.” There are shoots whose lot it is to spring up but never to flower. “You’re in cabin Aloha, number 7 upstairs.” Others whose lot it is to flower, but never to bear fruit. Pale female Okie arrival, tennies, white socks, unwraps heavily foiled burger.
Downstairs concourse: Game Room (door shut). Barber Shop, “AIR ST” of “HAIR STYLING” visible; red-white-and-blue-striped pole. Next-door “WE STILL/MAKE ’EM LIKE/WE USED TO” sign, U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station. Four things. Light switch, mall entrance, two buttons (on, off). The Master wholly eschewed. Both pointed sideways. He took nothing for granted. Weather Information Center sign, black and white: rainfall gauge, temperature, relative humidity. Hand-printed sign, red ink: “Relative humidity does not work.” 72° (“4 AM Weds.”). Bentley Hedges Travel Service, backlit Coliseum poster – “beep-bop-beep” of bank at end of corridor – “TWA/Italy.” He was never over-positive. Author reflection top-lit. Never egotistic. Blond hair in slight disarray, glint off one of two eye-glasses, tweed jacket, blue shirt, notebook open, pen in left-handed attentiveness. Never obstinate. “New York” [pale-green Statue of Liberty holding torch up to World Trade Towers].
Union Banquette, reflection of floor continuing floor on into banquette, images reading atop floor that in fact continues on in. Laughter (muffled chuckles), two undergraduates, author observation. “REGULAR OPERATING” – “beep-beep” – “HOURS” – “bop” – “9 A.M.” – “beep” – “to 5:00 P.M.” SCS Money Center black Plexiglas sliding window sliding down, customer departure. NBC customer (Norman Bank of Commerce) stepping to window. “Beep-beep-beep.” Black student, modified fro, gold neck-chain, red shirt, opens wallet, approaches ChekOKard Bank Center. “Beep-beep; beep-beep-beep”; faster: “beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.” White girl – heavily perfumed – drops checks, she and girlfriend negotiating NBC transaction. Giggles, hoarser beeps. Black (African) student departure. Author turns notebook page, seven more students materializing, Money Center presence.
Café Nationale. The flowery branch of the wild cherry. Neon sign (out) in clear glass. How swiftly it flies back. Yellow porcelain owl gazing outward. It is not. Will Rogers cafeteria. That I do not love you. Musak whine, bop-beat, dim light from distant kitchen. But your house. More Musak inanities. Is far away. Repeated an octave above. Said the Master: Fly, uncertain, touring table. He did not really love her. Settles on middle finger, author’s writing hand. For had he done so. Dusty plastic philodendra, real rocks, light olive planter. He would not have worried. Odor of stale smoke, mixed menu. About the distance. Will Rogers life-story mural, map with route of lecture tour. (Book of Songs commentary.) Union exit approach. (Men fail to attain Goodness – Waley – because they do not care for it sufficiently.) Stay-put coat hangers, solitary high chair. (Not because Goodness is “far away.”) Final marbled alcove; odor of janitor product, coffee stain on windowsill.
☯
“What do you mean you’re not sure?” – classroom TV voice, Alison listening intently. “All right, I am sure” – soap opera heroine, Debbie peering intently at black and white image. “And buy New Formula Eva” – commercial break. Alison in Theta pledge tee shirt, Debbie in red top under Okie blue overalls, Ross in three-color tennis shirt, heel of his Puma bouncing on floor. “Hmm, real apples.” Eileen in pink Latina blouse, one gold necklace atop it. “And it’s strong too!” Another tightly clasping silky brown neck, pink/white ribbons asway, yellow pen notation activity. “It would only be a way to get more control in the company.” Glancing at author-instructor; smiles, face full of braces, rubber bands.
Adam up to change channel. “This sounds good” – Darla. Adam resituation, foot of reptile-skin boot jiggling gently, scraps of paper – ring shred – on asphalt floor. “I have the feeling you’re missing something” – soap opera hero preparing to kiss heroine. “S-s-smack!” – Keith. “I’ve gotta censor this” – instructor, changing channel. Tod observing intently. Censorship overruled. When a bird is about to die. Return to original channel. Its song touches the heart.
Connie in gorgeous blue sundress. When a man is about to die. Blue ribbon tied about white leg cast. His words are of note. “I’m financial director of the Gilbert family.” White ribbon, bright floral designs, holding hair back. “You’ve got to know that something’s going to cause you a lot of pain.” Alison puzzling over soap opera dialogue, white leather Nikes, red side hook designs, blue middle soles. “I’m gonna cry” – John. “Jason had no idea she meant to kill you.” Ted in whisper dialogue-commentation with Keith. “Now that you brought up the subject, Floyd …” Connie glancing at author, Lao Tzu on table before him, TV in front of Lao Tzu, opening of Chapter XLI on blackboard behind. Eileen gazes out window, air-conditioned classroom, at silently waving sycamore. Ross changing channel.
“I won’t go into it now, it’s very complicated, but I know she loves you.” Alison attentive. Paula in sleepy funk. White paint drip, mid-way down cream-colored back wall, reading as though emerging from Jennifer’s pensive head. Kevin in green-soled Adidas sneakers. Darrell’s head appearing over Paula’s, OU cap, blocked now by Alison’s head, red-setter locks. Romance passionate. “I see no one’s getting bored” – John. “We’ve got a lot of holding to get caught up with” – heroine. Authorward smile from Alison. “You got a date” – John. Jennifer gazing warmly, quizzically, scratches nose. Leslie, eyes deeply glazed with romantic interest, hangs fire, studies author-instructor’s mood response, lets out laugh. In following the Way. Debbie, pigtails, changing channel. There are three things. To general moan. That a gentleman. General Hospital. Places above the rest. Hospital bell ringing.
Alison waving no, as George threatens to change channel. From every attitude. General laughter. Every gesture. “To help eliminate.” He must remove all trace of violence or arrogance. “Discomfort from constipation.” “Isn’t somebody getting bored?” – Eileen, adjusting one of her five rings. No response. “What’s this?” – Alison, puzzling over G.H. plot.
“It’s very difficult to explain” – Darla, black shorts, blue shirt, brilliant red cloth belt. Every look that he composes in his face must betoken good faith. “They’re probably debriefing Ellen” – Leslie, being helpful. From every word that he utters. Alison “Who knows?” smile. From every intonation. Paula smirks at author changing channel. He must remove. “This week, Wilson’s Jewelers …” Laughter. All traces of coarseness. Jennifer high giggle. “With the hearty flavor.” Ted smiling, feet on chair in front of him. Or impropriety. “To decaffeinate the ones you love.” Darla changing channel.
“And there was something almost childlike.” Sam dazed. “In the way Amanda forgave me.” Green alligator, yellow Izod. “I suppose you’d like me to make you some hot chocolate.” Jennifer quickly changing to soundless channel (ETV). “That’s good” – voice from back of room – “leave it there for a few minutes.” Writing activity continuing. “How are you all writing something” – Eileen – “when there’s nothing on?” Overhead gnat-filled neon bulb. Leslie, white jeans, black top, averting-gaze at-author-glance. George, rear corner, lit by bright light entering through blinds. “Get up and do your exercise!” – Eileen. J. changing channel.
“… and who sent him to Mozart on that puzzling night of 1791.” John up to change. “And my clothes smell fresh longer.” Alison holding hair back with left hand, right arm slumped to side. Sound of someone ripping several pages out of notebook. Connie, making weariness face, shakes writing hand. “… a movie star. Could she be scratching her head because she has dandruff?” “Arf! Arf!” – John. Jennifer flips hair to one side, continues notation. Sound of tiny mocs slip-sliding on gritty floor: Jamie changing channel. “I’m gonna lose weight and feel good about myself.” Eileen biting second joint, first finger (ringless), right hand. “Rachel and Rory consumed by passion.” Third finger, left hand, also ringless. Institutional lawn mower noisily idling. “Surprised to see you here at this hour!” Ted changing to Mozart channel. Mason immediately changing to ETV. John discussing with Ted another change. “Then Vermont was admitted to the Union, as our fourteenth state.” Darrell getting up to change. “This, of course, meant little to Mozart, who was primarily concerned with his health.” Eileen observing Darrell’s laughter-provoking powers. Keith in final channel change (sighs of relief). “One thing I’m glad about and that’s that Carrie’s away for a few days.”
☯
Oklahoma State Fair. “MYTH … OR REALITY?” Helicopter at “one o’clock” circling west. Cigarette smell, heavy, humid air. “Ten thousand dollar award, if not alive!” World Attractions, cowboy in straw hat, tight Levis, hand-in-hand with tight-butted girlfriend, bra-strap visible through tight tee shirt. “Suzie Wong. Four pounds. America’s strangest girl.” “Oklahoma” tee shirt, grey word repeated in red, yellow, blue. “Headless Helga, the Living Body Beautiful” – sign – “She Has No Head.” Water stagnant at curbside, tiny straw, cigarette filter-butts, cellophane wrapper. Heat oppressive. Chicano family, nine-month-pregnant mother, blue-and-white polka dot dress, large white stuffed animal under her arm.
“Topless girl inside” – barker – “She ain’t got no head.” Pavilion painted black, red letters: “Fat Albert, a 92-in. waistline [enormous portrait].” Girl in blue, boyfriend in green, tennis shirts; he in blue, she in white, jeans. Worker with purple birthmark surrounding his left eye. 87°, sweat soaking author’s red, white and blue cowboy shirt. “Pronto Pups,” “Hot Dog on a Stick.” “She’s alive on the inside” – barker – “Just look at the pictures.” (In describing himself he was said to have said:)
A gentleman does not wear facings of purple or mauve, nor in undress wear pink or roan. If the weather be hot, he wears an unlined gown of fine thread, loosely woven, but puts on an outer garment before appearing out-of-doors. The International House of Wax. With the black robe he wears black lambskin. Chic preppy woman, fiercely tanned, white knit shirt, embroidered yellow polo player. With the robe of undyed silk, fawn. Bob Hope. With the yellow robe, fox fur. Sammy Davis, Jr., Delores Pullard (“World’s Tallest Girl”). On his undress robe the fur cuffs are long. (“The World’s Biggest Man”). But the right cuff is shorter than the left. Dark-skinned woman in lace, shin-length smock, dangling rhinestone earrings. His bedclothes must be half as long again as the height of a man. John F. Kennedy, outsize gesturing hand. The thicker kinds of fox. Robert “Bobby” Kennedy. And badger. Jackie O. Are for home wear. Orientalized portrait busts (yellowish complexion). Except when in mourning. Woman in frizz-cut, shirt open a button. He wears all his girdle ornaments. Charm drop about her neck. Apart from his Court apron. Man holding baby aloft on open palm. All his skirts. Marilyn Monroe. Are wider at the bottom. (Complexion white.) Than at the waist. Full tragic lips. When he makes a visit of condolence. Gazing across at the Kennedys. Neither the hat of dark dyed silk. Her own features obscured by porch. Nor the dyed black lambskin. Except for arched eyebrow. Must be worn. Helicopter passage toward flag-bedecked race-course grandstand. Ponytailed six-year-old in red, yellow, blue color spots, applied to cheeks, forehead, chin, nose. Mother, black-based Hawaiian shirt, wiping sweat off neck. “Unbelievable size!” – barker. At the announcement of the New Moon. Muhammad Ali, double portrait. He must go to Court. Elvis. And appear with the other courtiers. M.L. King. In full Court dress. The Boston Strangler.
Aerodrome warm-up thunder. “Save the nine-ball till last” – pool-parlor attendant. Three-year-old in beige corduroys, miniature boots, orange balloon on string; sharing large Coke with four-year-old sister. Balloon escape as Coke changes hands. Three-year-old outburst of tears. Tank-topped mommy ignoring spectacle, taking seat by open tent of pool arcade, attendant racking balls at table. “Swiss Bob” across-way Alpine toboggan train, mural of eager spectators, blue-outlined Alps behind. Mommy in white socks (no shoes), salmon top (no bra), cig hanging mid-mouth. Joined by unshaven 18-year-old dude, broken middle finger on large white splint. Pool attendant re-racking balls behind them, black flaps, blond shoulder-length greasy locks. Mommy’s teen-age boyfriend wresting her cig away to light his own.
“It’s Miller Time.” When preparing himself for sacrifice. Sun bright (hot) on “Foot Long Chili Dog” stand. He must wear the Bright Robe. “Pennzoil”-capped, fat, red jumpsuited 55-year-old. And it must be of linen. “Poncho Dog” [illustrated dog dripping with mustard]. He must change his food. “Tracey Danielson’s ONION RINGS.” And also the place where he commonly sits. Author seated on glitter-yellow-sprayed curb, no other seat available. “Cotton Candy” (blue letters, yellow outline). “GRANDSTAND” facade (letters in deep red, black-bordered, white ground), visible through haze, smoke, dust.
But there is no objection to his rice being high in quality. Goateed black man, three-piece brown suit. Nor to his viand being finely minced. Pocket foulard, gold ring. Rice that has been affected by the weather. Grey-bearded gent with walking stick, brow beaded in sweat. Or turned. Moustaches drooping. He must not eat. White terry-cloth-topped teen-aged daughter trailing behind. Nor fish that is not good. Red-haired girl, intensely freckled arms. Nor viand that is high. Accompanied by mom, sister, niece in stroller. Breeze-blown sweat beginning to cool author’s shirtfront. Brunette passing, silver turtle-shaped balloon, “LOVE” printed on floral-patterned shell. Steady disco croon issuing from restaurant interior, smell of charcoal.
He must not eat anything discolored. “Take this job and shove it” – Shooting Gallery attendant’s radio. Or that smells bad. “I ain’t workin’ here no more.” Attendant’s shirt rolled to midriff, electric fan on folding chair. “Put your money on top of the glass,” he says.
Nor must he eat what is overcooked. “Archer Industries Flame Retardant” awning, Vietnamese girl passing under it. Nor what is undercooked. Woman in red tee shirt touches author on shoulder, as husband in yellow shirt looks on. Nor anything out of season. Author turns his back on couple. “The Derby Game Rules.” Large pink pandas, Miss Piggy dolls, lining shelf behind Skee Ball game. “Jeremy, Jeremy, let’s go ride.” “All ya got’ do is have fun” – barker – “Come on, you can do it!” “Tip ‘em Over” black tee shirts: The Rolling Stones, Billy Joel, Judas Priest. He must not eat what is crookedly cut. Kermit the Frog game, red-haired girl at mike, hoarse, sweaty from barking, kids lined up at every gate. Nor a dish that lacks its proper seasoning. “Operator Sole Judge of Winner.” “Break Me” balloon game. “Water Race,” clown pulling donkey, monkey on back. “Basketball Throw 50 Cents.”
The meat that he eats. Girl passing in red “Denco Café, Norman OK” tee shirt. Must not make his breath smell of meat (rather than of rice). White-fronted arcade, “Coin Games,” “FUN” on each of three pillars. Framed, inscribed mirrors: “Drink Pepsi-Cola”; “Rush [naked man on white, five-pointed star, blue circle field]; “Cocaine: The Rich Man’s Aspirin.” As regards wine. Bud bottle on counter, half full. No limit is prescribed. Glass next to it, full head. “Poster Darts.” But he must not be disorderly. “You get what you stick.” He must not drink wine bought at a shot or eat dried meat from the market.
“Chinese Maze” barker: “They’re all lost now! They’re all in there now! They’re tryin’ to find a way out! You can’t get in and you can’t get out!” Indian guy, white girl, matching “I’m His,” “I’m Hers” white tee shirts, red arms. When he carries the tablet of jade. Ambulance siren “buh-woop; buh-woop,” inching way through crowd. He seems to double over. Driver pointing at yellow/white traffic horse in attempt to get someone to move it. As though borne down by the weight of it. Smoke billowing over five-story grandstand structure. He holds it above his head as though he were making a bow. Ambulance entering aerodrome precinct. At his knees. Column of smoke beginning to drift. As though proffering a gift. Spilled nacho bowl in roadway, plastic broken, nachos scattered. Skeleton-print, flesh-colored tee shirt passing. His expression changes to one of dread. Rear of sideways-rotating Ferris wheel dipping to horizontal position. And his feet. “OOOOO”; “EEEEE”; silence. Seem to recoil. Ambulance returning “buh-woop, buh-woop, boop.” As though he were avoiding something. Enormous red side lights flashing.
“Billy Reed is still alive” – barker. Rear alley, “Enterprise” sideshow. “This is what can happen to your child.” When presenting ritual presents. “A living testimony of drug abuse.” His expression is placid. “Billy Reed is alive on the inside.” At the private audience. “The World’s Largest Collection of Freak Animals.” “Billy Reed used to be normal.” His attitude is gay. “No hand stamp, no coupons.” And animated. “Twisto with Head at 45o”; “Midget Stallion”; “The Five-Headed Brahma.” Two clowns passing, each with an ERA button on costume front.
☯
Said the Master:
Norman Club Directory
“Respect the young.”
Alpha Chi Omega Alumnae
Beta Sigma Phi
Christian Women’s Fellowship, Lydia Group
“How do you know.”
Civil Air Patrol
“That they will not one day.”
Coterie Club
“Be all that you are now?”
Council of Norman Garden Clubs
Current Study Department, Sororis Club
Daughters of Eve Circle
Delta Delta Delta
Disabled American Veterans
Douglas Bible Club
Ex Libris Book Review Club
First Presbyterian Women’s Circle
Flora Belle Garden Club
Friday Duplicate Bridge Club
Insurance Women of Cleveland County
LaLeche League
Newcomers Club
“But if a man.”
Norman Military Wives
Norman Music Club
“Has reached forty.”
Norman PEO Reciprocity Group
“Or fifty.”
Norman Porcelain Artists
Norman Sooner Lions Club
“And nothing has been heard of him.”
Old Regime Study Club
Order of Eastern Star
Parent Support Group
“Then I grant.”
Rainbow for Girls
Redbud Garden Club
Sooner Desk and Derrick
“There is no need.”
Swinging Sooners
“To respect him.”
Tulip Garden Club
Wednesday Book Club
Women of the Moose
Women’s Aglow Teach Us to Pray Study Club
Women’s Aglow Holy Spirit Workshop
☯
White-painted goal post slightly away in wind. Styrofoam cup dancing on Astroturf, Coke cup nearby skitter. Connie seated, 50 yard line, Alison behind her, heat waves creating mirage on field. Cup “ding” against grandstand. “END ZONE” (white on Sooner red). Immensely distant airplane crossing slowly through goal posts, white vapor trail, drone decreasing to nothing. (Said Master Tseng:)
12; 13-14. The man to whom. 15. One could with equal confidence. 16. Entrust an orphan. 17-18. Not yet fully grown. 19, 20, 21. Or the sovereignty of a whole State. 22-23, 24 (north endzone portals). Whom the advent of no emergency however great could upset. Jan, back to wall, south endzone, blue tennis shirt, dark blue jeans. George sprawled on astroturf, top of pen visible, flickering over page of open notebook. Would such a one be a true gentleman? Whine, wheeze, start of motor, nearby construction site. Cup dancing from sideline to middle of football field. Turning; turns again, caught in brilliant sunlight, pools of liquid heat. He I think would be a true gentleman indeed. Ross, in sunlight, 45 yard line, leg crossed, notebook poised on knee. Ratchet sound, machine upstart.
Section 38, top of south endzone, numerals falling in automatic waterfall to stadium floor: 10 10 10 10 10 10 10; diagonally: 10 11 12 13 14 15. Wind steady in author’s hair, blown over forehead. Butterfly passing before Norman/OU skyline: Gittinger Hall; Botany-Microbiology (lab-courtyard poplar brushing inner wall); baseball bleachers; parking lot, large silver-containered truck, white cab, exiting. Boyd water tower on horizon. Yellow-shirted black athlete enters below. White-red “NORMAN” water tower just visible on NW horizon. Old gym, stadium’s massive pressbox surmounting it, windows giving back a complicated pattern. Megaphones atop it, lightning rods spiring higher. NNW: Union’s Gothic pinnacles; residential dorm tower (Whitehand Hall). Automotive sound (cars moving in all directions); machinery zzz-drone; talking tourists entering, stadium below. McFarlin Church rises to north out of foliage, decorous in scale; First Baptist red brick to east.
Yen Hui. Darla. Said with a deep sigh. Pink shirt, dark hair, white ribbons. The more I strain my gaze up towards it. Writing on seat in sun, 83 rows below. Connie, white shirt, red shorts, also in sun, 40 yard line, 100 yards distant. The higher it soars. Alison, red hair on green astroturf, blue-jeaned legs crossed, lies on her back, 20 yard line. The deeper I bore down into it. Behind up over them sun-spotted water tower. The harder it becomes. Silver bulbed underbelly, grey stem. I see it in front. Single white smokestack. But suddenly it is behind. Green-hospital-shirted overweight athlete sprints from goal line to opponent’s 40; returns to his own 40; pauses; sprints to goal, standing by first letter of upsidedown “OKLAHOMA SOONERS.”
NNE foliage: dark green, lighter green, yellow. Step by step. Tinge of autumnal change. The Master lures one on. Two water towers, unequal in size, standing on horizon. He has broadened me with culture. New apartment complex in distance. Restrained me with ritual. Parched field, football dorm, three flag poles. Even if I wanted to stop. Three flags: I couldn’t. Oklahoma, America, OU.
Side-line bench indicators (low-level view), white on green turf. Sam rubbing nose, head on arm, arm on knee, audibly sniffling. Just when I feel that I’ve exhausted every resource. Darla looks up, over author’s head, at scoreboard clock. Something seems to rise up. Loud obnoxious aircraft appearing over stadium rim. Standing out sharp and clear. Light glinting off Darla’s rings, passerby checking her out. Wind in hair, shadow alive with motion. Yet though I long to pursue it. Black girl horizontal stadium pass-through. “WARNING: KEEP OFF WALL & FIELD.” I can find no way. Words stencilled twice. Of getting to it. New over old paint, blurred effect.
Stands in shadows, single freshmen, pairs of freshmen, threesomes; writing, talking, reading. Mason perusing the Te Ching; Keith left-handed writing; Ted nervously glancing to right in observation. Green-shirted Eileen thumbing through notebook pages, J. watching her. Jennifer, pen pensively to cheek. Leslie leaving five minutes early, assured American female gait, yellow pants. 2:43: John leaps entrance gate, dances onto field, feigns pass pattern for Alison/Connie. 2:44: mass freshman departure, down aisles, up field, out runways.
Author remains, 2:45. Left-hand wind-whipped page hold-down. 86o. Southern view; sprinkler on football practice field. Dale Hall rising over horizon. Parking lot in near ground, individual sun-glint off each car. Lower freshman dorms, higher structures behind.
☯
Fontanelli’s. Ten o’clock, Friday evening. Washed, shoulder-length, recently-cut hair against gold-threaded rose-, blue-, flesh-colored vertical striped blouse. Black cowboy hat. Said the Master: Over-bar TV image on, furniture polish commercial table shine. The common people. Muddy country slop-splash on multi-directional speakers. Can be made to follow it. “Thump” of hand on booth divider. They cannot. Overweight Indian woman, flannel shirt, faded jeans, tapping thigh. Be made to understand it. Conversing with white dude in flatly animated tones.
Hippie-worker, white headband, ordering at bar, barlight back-lighting blond locks, turning edges into frizzy, feminine curl appearance. “The chances are” – Indian woman. TV water flow (no sound). “Harris Ford” image up, blurring in author’s notebook-to-screen observation. Bearded guy standing at bar, waits for drink, chalks pool cue. “No, don’t let him have a cigarette” – last word in high intonation, nearby table secretary chick to second vocal girl, cig between her fingers, both denying forward-leaning suitor a cigarette. Indian dude, long pigtails interbraided with plastic-looking red (red-grey) ribbon.
Through-window in-lookers passing by. Pinball “whang!” Said Master Tseng: TV images: The true. Gary Essex. Knight of the Way. Action 4 Update. “Baby, baby, baby” – five-year-old stereo song. Perforce must be. (“Follow Up” – news at ten). Both broad shouldered. Car-into-river – off bridge – upside-down story. And stout of heart. Gary Essex mod-cut grey shag. His burden is heavy. Don Cory (kidnap suspect) insert screen-fill. And he must go far. White-bordered image flipping over, flipped back, receding to infinity. Single yellow bar light, single red bar light, single green bar light, centering top, sides of bar-behind window. “Let’s see” – waitress – “it’ll be 2.35” – to red/white worker’s cap – “out of five dollars. I’ll bring it back in just a minute.”
Solitary-sullen dude, Bud bottle held like crucifix, mid-chest, blue, loose-fitting jacket. For Goodness is the burden he has taken. Guy with long stringy yellow hair. Upon himself. Brown fu-manchu moustache. And must we not grant. Sudden crowd influx. It is a heavy one to bear? College-age clientele. Animated girl turning toward pool table, cue in hand. Only with death. Fifty-cents’ change. Does his journey end. Dropping on author’s table.
Liberty’s. (Liberty D. Must we not grant. Remodeled Liberty Drug store. That he has far to go?) Said the Master: Red stereo three-dot glow (three lights, three lights’ reflections); sheet beneath on clipboard (drink prices). Obeisance below the dais. Drink glass filled with matches (“Liberty Drug,” “Liberty Drug”). Is prescribed by ritual. Black ashtray, cig slits through 270o, faint red overhead light reflection, interior bottom. Nowadays people make obeisance. Single yellow-white bulb backlighting ’30s-lettered words: “TOILETRIES,” “STATIONERY.” After they have mounted the dais. ’40s advertisements in color, wall above. This is presumptuous. TV high-school football coverage, bartender watching. And though contrary. Waitress in cloth-wallet-adjustment. To general practice. Cig draw. I make a point. Newscaster visage. Of bowing. Barry visage. While still down. Interview reverse shots. 10:32. Any men. Jimmy Johnson visage, red country-boy mod cut. Save those. Silly student clientele. Who are truly good. Dollar bill stuck, neck of wine decanter. Should their suffering be great. “Side Orders” placard. Will likely rebel. TV baseball coverage.
Othello’s (defunct Iago’s). Radio sound overflow; M*A*S*H on large-screen video. “That’s incredible” (radio). Loretta Swit close-up (soundless). “Borders on the precious” (radio). When King Wen perished. Overhead stemmed glass suspension. Did that mean culture (wen) ceased to exist? Mildly decadent, blond college-girl waitress: “Well, you know what they say, Charles” – to bartender – “time moves on its heels.” “Bud” over bar. Sultry Indian babe entrance, hack-coughing. If Heaven had really intended. Hand before lips for second cough. That culture should disappear. Seated with-friend conversation posture: drugged concern. It would never have allowed some latter-day mortal. “These are my absolutely final words” (radio). To link himself to it. (Camp drama.) As I have done. Clock over bar reads 12:00; clock on register, 6:20. And if Heaven does not intend. “You ordering in Morse code, or something?” – waitress to desultory, droopy-moustached customer. To destroy such culture. Two stylish black girls entering, both unhopeful. Blond waitress approaches author, stands, arms folded, beside him. What have I to fear. Looks the other way. Digital TEC register. From the people. Registering 0.00. Of K’uang? Indian babe withdrawing cig from pack, behind-bar bottles in identical red pouring tips.
☯
South Oval, light wind-whip through overhead oak leaves. Library jackhammer construction, scent of fresh cold-front air, white VW humming past in pursuit of dirty red utility truck. Red tip of white-based fire plug. “Stately” hackberry, students beneath. “Confucius” overheard. Freshmen dispersed into four groups of five. Blond female jogger crosses Oval, enters Kaufmann (Modern Languages). Two Indians converse outside Copeland (Journalism). Parched lawn. Student in honey-blond hair, sundress, crossing street in front of slowing motorcycle.
Professor crossing street, enters Botany-Microbiology, adjusting glasses. Light green service truck parked next to bed of impatiens, petunias, red and white chrysanthemums. Student passes, bright orange notebook held to breast. Orange mower uproar, north end of Oval. Fly settles on author’s shirt-cuff; buzzes; off. John (discussion leader): “You got any thoughts on that one?”
George: “We already did the fifth one.” Author eavesdropping groups. Darla, Debbie, Leslie on bench together, John on ground, legs outstretched, George cross-legged.
John: “What do you think about ‘at 40’?” Voice mingled with mower.
George: “Maybe at 40 he reaped his goal.” Mower drowning out other responses. Sun from behind cloud-cover, a little too warm for comfort.
“At 50” – John initiating new topic – “what are ‘the biddings of heaven’?” No response. John: “You see, he’s not talking heaven like we mean heaven.”
Darla: “I thought Buddha was their god.” Brand new corduroys, frilly shirt, daisy hairclip, penny loafers. More discussion.
Debbie: “You’re not over the hill when you’re 50!” White buttondown, maroon vest, purple hairclip. John crouching now on Nikes, cross dangling from neck, red and blue horizontal-striped polo short, white collar.
“I hear you football players are really into drugs” – Darla to John – “Would you get me some?”
“I’m not a football player” – John – “I’m a baseball player.”
Darla: “So?” Plaid-shirted Indian starts up leaf-raker. Cool breeze buffeting books open, Darla chasing her notebook.
“Ah, excellent!” – John taking Darla’s vacated seat on bench.
“I just wrote down what you were saying” – Mason, explaining to fellow group member, leaf-raker whipping up cloud of dust.
Darrell (second discussion leader): “We’re supposed to be connecting this with the South Oval.” Alison comment drowned out by passing CART shuttle (imitation trolley car).
“I just wrote down what you said” – Jamie – “because you explained it so well,” soft jeans, south Okie drawl, blue gem high school ring.
Adam: “This guy was pretty far ahead of his time.” Alison, both hands clasped under her legs, looks carefully at Darrell, who, yellow penguin shirt, black face, white cap (red “OU”), continues commentary: “… about love, about hate …” Discourse obliterated by electric hedge clippers, Buildings & Grounds girl in loose smock top, worn jeans, working them, long red cord trailing behind her. “... nearly everyone knows” – Darrell – “whether someone is right ... I’ve used analogies with school, you know, but you could carry it further.” Jennifer, seated with third group, looks at instructor, gets up, approaches, paper fluttering in hand. “You know, society, countries, us here.”
“He says about the South Oval” – J. (third discussion leader) – “how it affects it, like the atmosphere.” Two groundsmen, pickups pulled alongside one another. Connie, blue white-monogrammed sweater, seated on ground, attending patiently to J.
Jennifer to author: “You’re just going to ignore us.” Blue top, slack jeans. Connie deep in discussion with J. Tod taking notes, elbow on thigh, wallet protruding from rear pocket.
“You see, I got a car over there” – J. to Connie, rest of group silent, Jennifer’s yellow pencil, Jan’s white pen bobbing in unison. Jan finished, head back, large green hoop in right ear; leans for look in author’s book.
“One of your pledge sisters” – Jennifer, striking up conversation with Connie – “is in my class.” Ingratiating hair flip, self-deprecating look.
“In some places” – Eileen (fourth discussion leader) – “aren’t dogs holy like cows?” Pool of excess water under maple tree. “I can see you’re all bored.” (Sprinkler activity). “I think I’ll read you some Spanish.”
“I/always/prepare/the exercises” – Ted, translating Eileen’s Spanish. Sam in red Izod, sleeping dog at feet, Ross poking it with felt-tip pen, Sam’s red notebook on grass nearby.
“I have an econ. class I have to go to Friday” – Eileen, to no one in particular.
“Right out of college you make 25, 30 …” – Ted in conversation with Sam. Oriental girl, white sweater, red notebook clasped to waist, passes red and white geraniums, recently set out in front of monolithic statue of Bizzell, latter occluded by two evergreens.
“The best way to learn Spanish is to go where no one speaks anything else” – Eileen. New dog arrival.
“I think here’s mom” – Paula. Bark bark; growl. Sleeping dog awakes, arises. Barks, growls. Ted, Sam, quickly to feet.
<