The Matter With Morris by David Bergen

Author:David Bergen [Bergen, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781582437590
Publisher: Counterpoint
Published: 2010-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Just before Idaho Falls he took an exit, and after an hour of driving, he discovered that he was heading north to Butte rather than west to Boise. He pulled over to the shoulder and studied the map, then continued and followed a small highway west into a town called Arco, where, close to the railway tracks, he stopped at a souvenir shop and talked to a Vietnam veteran who was selling bowls shaped from solid rock. The man was in a wheelchair. He was voluble and lonely, and without any prompting he said that he had lost his legs in Vietnam. He talked about wars both past and present. He showed Morris his Purple Heart. “I love my country. With all my heart. I’d give up my legs sixty times over for this place.” He wheeled out from behind his table and pushed up close to Morris. Looked up at him. “It’s a beautiful country. When you’re finished with Boise, go south to Arizona, the Grand Canyon. Gives you faith in God.”

Just what he needed, Morris thought, a return to a faith he had lost so long ago. “I’m not an atheist,” he said.

“Of course you aren’t.” Too enthusiastic, this suffering cripple. And in order to escape, Morris chose one of the bowls, the larger one with the blue lines. His brother might appreciate it. Outside, on the stoop of the shack, the sun beat off his head and made his eyes swim. Or perhaps he was tearing up. He had taken to crying lately, at the slightest hint of bathos, like his father used to do when he told stories to his children, gathering them around him, a sequester near the fire. Ancient stories, because those stories were the best. And the tears fell.

Farther along, winding amongst hills that were bare except for the occasional horse or a pickup moving slowly along a road high above, he realized that he would never be able to compete with the patriotism of the man he had just seen. The mythmaking was so engrained, so lacking in contemplation. But perhaps I am missing something, he thought.

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