After the Prize by Gil Roscoe

Author:Gil Roscoe [Gil Roscoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: -
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2016-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

I rode this country once again.

Listened to the football conversations

in the restaurants.

Moaned the plastic bags

hanging on the prairie fences.

Collected little shampoo bottles

from the highway motels.

Before I left I found

a hundred dollar bill

in my mother’s dresser.

I used it to buy new music.

I played Mozart tag with the trucks

as we rolled up and down

the Tennessee hills.

I drank coffee that was special good

and bloody awful.

My mother’s ashes rode in the backseat.

She had one last tour of her homeland

before I floated her off

the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Jack put down the pen and reread his first poem about the death of his mother. She’d been gone for two years and during that time he hadn’t written a thing about that awful month. He’d hated the hospice experience so thoroughly that he pushed away anything that reminded him of it. Last night’s conversation with Bonnie about family had somehow opened up that era for reflection. He didn’t know why their talking about family had finally released him, but it did.

Jack was all packed up and ready to go. He hadn’t slept well and felt tired because of it. After he closed his notebook, he put on his shoes to go for a walk. He was supposed to drive his golf cart down to Laurel Lodge at eight, and then catch a limo ride to the Baltimore airport. He had plenty of time, so he thought he’d walk the Camp David loop. Jack hoped that the 6 AM mountain air would wake him up. He also hoped it would help him think through the events of last night.

As Jack approached the skeet shooting field he saw a man sitting on one of the benches. It was President Shea and he was reading some papers. The president lifted his head when he heard Jack approaching. Jack smiled and waved. The president did the same.

“You’re up early,” the president said as Jack approached.

“As are you,” Jack said as he looked around. “Where are your Secret Service people?”

“Up there,” President Shea said as he pointed toward the sky. “Two Gecko-Drones are watching my every move.”

“I’ve heard of those,” Jack said. “They can change colors, right?”

“Yeah. Only half a mile up and you can’t even see them.”

“They must be a lovely shade of blue today,” Jack said.

“I’m sure they are,” the president said as he chuckled. “They’re probably not necessary. This is one of the most secure pieces of real estate on earth. The main reason I come here is because I’m able to get some alone time. The quiet moment has become a real treasure for me.”

“Oh,” Jack said. “Maybe I should…”

“No, no,” the president interrupted. “Sit down. I have to give this speech at the UN on Tuesday and I’m sick of reading it.”

“Did you write it yourself?” Jack asked as he sat down.

“No. I think about a dozen people at the State Department put it together. I hate it. It just goes on and on about the same old things in the same old ways. No inspiration. It’s just a lot of safe clichés.

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