| | The grass held many souls in its roots and when it grew too long to satisfy human eyes, would be cut and feed the roots again. There was a child named Jacob that saw the souls falling back into the earth, imprisoned in that chlorophyll infused place and he thought it might be hell. He watched this cycle day after day as his caretaker, Uma pushed him briskly through the park with his stroller. Uma had been a maid and clothes washer for a wealthy family in Haiti before coming to America, so was very in shape for a 50 year old woman and didn't mind the strolls in the park. Sometimes at nighttime as Uma put Jacob to bed, he often thought a ghost undressed him and tucked him into the warm, silent darkness, a ghost with gentle hands and a cooing voice. In the day, Uma was like a shadow, towering in front and behind the stroller, a kind of guardian angel in jeans and a patterned shirt but with no wings.
Halfway through their daily walk in the park, Uma and Jacob would sit and rest in the grand field at the center of the park, where according to Uma many souls waited patiently to be reborn. And though Jacob frowned inside as they sat in the grass, he smiled outwardly as if by reflex because the sun heated his face. It would not be until he visited distant relatives in the country and saw cows and goats chomping on the grass, and had a great banquet where he ate those same cows and goats and drank their milk and ate their cheese that Jacob's mind changed about the whole matter of grass and souls. Between bites of a cheeseburger, while sipping on frost bitten milk, Jacob turned his face up to Uma, and spoke in a low tone while his legs swung back and forth under bench of the picnic table:
"Some souls get to travel afterall..."
Uma patted his head and both she and Jacob continued eating. As grasshoppers and dragonflies flew overhead in a warm summer buzz, Jacob looked upon his older sister Sarah, who had just turned fifteen the weekend before. She sat with her arms crossed in the shade by herself and was the only one that did not partake of the feast because for her, hell was being eaten against your will in your own milk and juices. For a moment, Jacob tried to understand his sister's perspective but in time forgot the matter because the burger in his hands was so good.
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| | Posted 5/30/2006 11:46 AM - 0 comments
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