Same Place, Same Things – Tim Gautreaux

 

The leaves on the large tree outside of my window turn from green to yellow, red, and then brown, and today, without a wind, they seem to be falling faster than I’ve ever noticed. It’s beautiful and comforting knowing that summer has retreated, and we are moving well into a new season.

Pre-pandemic, I found myself at times, falling into a routine that could provide comfort one day and uneasiness the next. Wake up, run/exercise, shower, drive to work, work 9-5, come home, spend time with the family, watch a little TV, sleep – repeat. It was nice, but there was some staleness to it – especially the 9-5 portion of the day.

In February, I left my place of employment after a 20-year run. I settled into an interesting few weeks, where I searched for other jobs and had some down-time to relax and reflect on my next moves.

March arrived, and so did the national shut-down as everyone tried to figure out how to live in the new normal.

Summer sets in, and we develop a routine as a family to provide the boys with a sense of normalcy in the middle of this crisis. It was a pleasant routine – wake up without an alarm, run/exercise, eat breakfast together, head out for a walk together, sit outside for most of the day, eating, lounging by the pool in the backyard. The evening would come, we’d head out on another walk, have dinner together and perhaps go on a third walk. We ate a lot of watermelon and ice cream. Listened to music and goofed off. It was a great summer.

August arrives, and I started a new job. Wake up at 6:00, run/exercise, make breakfast, shower, but the time clock and the timeclock is punched when I sign into MS Teams at 8:00 in the morning. Spend a good part of the day in front of a computer working from home. I am fortunate. We are all able to be together during this time, and I think that one day when we’re old and reflecting on this time, we’ll have very fond memories of the time spent together.

I don’t know if I find routines comforting or not. I value the knowledge that there is the predictability of a routine, and I know it’s suitable for the boys. I do wonder, though, if there is a loss that I am experiencing without the unpredictability.

The main character in this short story finds himself going through a routine of fixing

farmer’s water pumps and his routine life take s a turn for the worse after an encounter with a lonely woman on a dusty farm.

Disruptions in my modern life seem to consist of car trouble, internet connectivity issues…that sort of thing. Pretty minor.

But what lies just below the surface of this thin reality of everyday life is the chaos of uncertainty that will poke through and cause quite the most unpleasant disruptions on rare occasions.

The chaos visited us in March…we’re still living through it.

What will happen the next time chaos pokes through our thin reality?

How will we react? How will it alter our lives?

 

Across the Bridge – Mavis Gallant

Across the Bridge is the ninth and final story by Mavis Gallant to be featured in the Best American series.

Gallant is a master storyteller.

There’s just one problem for me.

I don’t like her stories.

I believe I gave her a fair shot in my early treatment after my first exposure to her writing. But as I read more of her…I just found that she wasn’t to my tastes.

That’s about all I have to say about that.  

A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain – Robert Olen Butler

As these short stories allow us, and for a reader to fully take advantage of them, one must trust the author, suspend reality, surrender yourself and become someone else. 

A great author can take you out of your "body" and drop you into a character of their choosing. Of course, you have to play along, fully immerse yourself in the story, and not throw up any obstacles to the immersion. 

And what is terrific about this is that you can close the book and return to "your life" but still retain the life of that character if you feel the necessity.

The written story really is an incredible device – as is the mind that absorbs and translates the strange symbols printed on the pages.

Through this story that first appeared in the New England Review, Robert Olen Butler invites you to slip into the mind of an elderly Vietnamese man nearing death as he reflects upon his life, visiting departed relatives and acquaintances…even the restless ghost of Ho Chi Minh.

I've often wondered about my final days. Morbid? I don't think so. These thoughts allow me to refocus on my life's priorities – to live in the moment with the people I love. It also allows me to take stock of my life is/was and alter my course, if necessary. 

I also wonder if I'll be of sound mind at my time of death to even reflect as this character does. Will I have my memories? Will they torture me in my last minutes, or will I just simply fade away? What purpose would be served as I lay there, torturing myself with these thoughts?

Perhaps, when it is my time, there will be the option to customize your last days. To make sure that your last breaths are comfortable and that you are at peace. That would be wonderful. 

Silver Water – Amy Bloom

Silver Water first appeared in Story magazine. I once had a nice collection of Story magazines, and it pains me to write the word once in this sentence. 

I believe they were all “donated” to a local thrift store. I like to imagine that they were snatched up by another lover of the short story, but in reality, they probably sat on the shelf in the store and were dumped after not selling.

 I suppose they were only valuable to me, purchased from a used book store in downtown Norfolk in the mid 00’s with birthday money from my grandmother. I remember writing that down in the cover of one of the editions. 

They stood in formation on my bookshelf for several years, and I’d pull one out every so often, thumb through it, read a story and return it to its home.

Amy Bloom makes three appearances in The Best American anthology. Her first appearance was in 1991 with Love is Not a Pie. 

We will visit with Amy again in 2000. 

Love is Not a Pie is a beautiful story and compelled me to write one of my favorite posts that detailed a past spent with my father—the post that was made in April of 2017 – just a few short months before he died.

Silver Water tackles the too important issue of mental health and, more importantly, how a family copes with it when it strikes and completely cripples one of its members. I remember discussing schizophrenia with my father – he, of course, supervised a few of them over many years. I was baffled at how this disease could completely ravage a person – and their family.

Having a loved one suffer from such a debilitating mental illness is one of my greatest fears. Your mother, wife, son, or daughter could be completely “normal” one day…and then, the disease creeps in, grabs that portion of their brain, their soul – and takes them from you. It’s so heartbreaking. 

Once again, we are shown, life is suffering.