Others

Others

     by Chevy (the Ax) Reimer

         Do unto others as I would have you doing to them 

         Blessed are the weak for they shall inherit the Kurds

Mississippi lay back on the raft and smoked his corncob. The smoke curled upward towards the stars. A frypan of possum grease and cold catfish at his elbow and a jug of Werner's Best at his other allowed him to stay put and not rouse himself when the need for this or that arose. Sounds of a distant steamer plied by and disappeared around the bend. In his nose the brackishness of tainted fish and wet rough wood tickled. He turned on his side and slept. At daybreak he reached Cairo.

        Cairo coming around the bend got him up at last. Hot night air so thick he could hardly wade to the raft's prow had made him naked. He swooped on his overalls and took up his straw hat. Then he looped a rope over his arm and stood by to leap to the bank. He pulled in at the wharf by a café and a series of slips with other launches. None of the spaces would accommodate a craft of his size, so Mississippi maneuvered closer to the bank until he heard the bottom scrape, then jumped to shore and tied up to a tree.

        The waitress brought him coffee, ham and eggs. He finished these and asked for more. When he was done and had successfully eluded the management without paying, he walked down a Main Street until he came to a station where trucks take on water for their fields. Here he helped them fill and received small tips for his efforts. He returned at end of day to his raft, and with the tobacco purchased he lay aboard thinking that this might be his permanent place of residence. He decided, then, that, in fact, that was just what it would be. He had found his home.

        A policeman came by and asked his business. Mississippi told him and the man left. He wished then to move his bark up closer to the tree to which it was tethered. He heaved and pulled, he huffed and puffed and roared, but alas to no avail. He was too weak to pull that beast up even an inch further. Nothing for it but to leave it where it was. From here he would regard the comers and goers at the café. Yes, he thought, this is the good life. I am so glad that I am Mississippi Jake Jennings of Cairo. He smiled and relit his dead pipe