Saturday, October 22, 2011

The Vanishing Man

There was an arsonist running amok in my small rural hometown of Hobe Sound FL during the first half of 1969. Many acres of woodlands and modest homes were consumed in his wrath. Lawn sprinklers were placed atop flat, tar papered rooftops to protect against floating embers from spreading the devastation. My grandparents 50th wedding celebration was interrupted when a large brush fire was started a scant hundred yards behind my uncle's house. 

One afternoon, a fire was started in the woods across the street from my elementary school. The fire chief locked down the school with all of us in it. I will never forget my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs Kinser, hugging me as I sat at my desk in the middle of class as I cried in terror. When we were finally allowed to make our ways home, we had to walk on the ditch side of the street, past a wall of fire trucks and the men battling a massive blaze consuming acres of pine trees and deep old forest. 

As I write this, I can't ever recall being as scared as I was that day. 

My father was 90 miles south in Miami at his new job. It would be several months before my mother and I would join him to live beneath the same roof, reforming our family of sorts once again. Until then, I would dread the fires during my waking hours and suffer night terrors in my sleep. I would watch my mother and my grandparents, who lived next door, grieve the impending separation  of us moving away from our very small town and close family to the bustling, corrupted metropolis of Miami FL, USA. Those were some of the most painful days of my small life.

We finally moved to the rental house to join my father. He would frequently take business trips for days on end. One weekend, as we often did, we went back to spend a day of so in the old house that still hadn't sold and visit with the family members that still hadn't healed from our separation. After dinner, my father announced that he would be leaving on another business trip and would be gone very early the next morning. 

I took my 8 year old self to bed and began to quietly (or so I thought) cry. My Mom opened the door and asked me 'What's wrong?' I replied, 'I need my daddy'. She walked out and I heard her say 'He needs to talk to you'.  He came in and asked why I was crying. I said, 'I need my daddy'. He said 'But I have to go away sometimes, it's my job. I have to make money to support you and Mom'. 'I don't care how much money you make' I said, 'I need my dad'. 

'But Max, it's my job'.

'Then go ahead and leave'

The next morning, he was gone and I never forgave him. 

Nine years later, I came home from my job to find him face down on the floor in his bedroom in the throes of a massive stroke centered in his brain stem from which he would never recover. He was to be blind and mostly paralyzed for the rest of his days. 

The doctors in the ER said that I saved his life. Late that same night, April 25, 1980, his brother, my uncle David told me how proud he was of me for behaving as I did under such circumstances and saving his brother's life. At that moment, I was in too much shock to even speak. I just dropped the phone on the kitchen counter and went back to sit on the sofa and stare at the carpet. 

When Dad eventually regained a fraction of his speech and a very few coarse motor skills, he cursed me from his bed for keeping him conscious by slapping his face and yelling for him to wake up while waiting for the paramedics to arrive. 

But he first woke from his coma and a nurse asked him 'Mr Grimm, do you know where you are?'
'In a hospital.'
'Do you know how you got here?'
'My son hit me. We don't get along.'

Many months later, he eventually came home. After an especially bad night, while sitting precariously on the edge of his bed he lashed out at me and said 'You should have let me die goddamnit.  I Hate You.'

I responded, 'I'm sorry you feel that way because I Love You.'

There was a very long silence. I think the old brass balled son of a bitch almost cried. 

Then.........'Jesus Christ, Max..... I'm glad you say things like that..... Good night'.

'Me too..... Good night, Dad'


I have no eloquent transition from the narrative to the poetic, except to say that, if you love them, there is no greater gift to give them but you. 


Every night 
I would wait 
for the vanishing man 
to appear at my door 
to chase the vampires away 
clenching a sword 
ravenous for battle 

A vicarious shutter 
rattled through my tiny frame 
as I projected my warrior 
aloft upon air 
gleaming steel blinding the adversaries 
blood of the vilest sort 
spilled in a victorious rainbow 
an artwork of proportion 
beyond scope and measure 
crystalizing the essence 
of glory and true self 
a reflection of the promise 
from which we were rendered. 

The older I grew 
the less did he vanish 
because he gradually ceased to materialize. 

Within my small skeleton 
a rupture appeared 
a crack turning to a fissure 
destined to become a valley 
a canyon 
an atom 
split deep in my heart 
bitter constructions 
were implanted hermetically 
forever to endure 
no matter the kindness 
bestowed upon me 

Never more at home
do I feel 
than in the cemetery at midnight 
cold winds and dampness 
enveloping my coat 
I leave offerings 
upon the tombs 
of the liberated 
wanting with excess desire 
the day I will come ready 
to leave this place 
of endless night 

Until then 
I wait for the vanishing man 
to appear in my dreams 
save me from myself 
cleansing from my head 
the virus implanted 
by his disappearance 
I pleaded and cried 
to his deafness 
he thus was struck blind 
set adrift 
on a pillow of ignorance 

I shall wait for his return 
in lieu of suicide 
my avenger, my savior 
has vanished from this existence 
I am suspended 
in waiting 
Much to my vexation 
time too slowly 
ticks by 
delaying our reunion. 

I curse the blank heavens 
and wonder their worth 
of praise or recognition 
and question their dwelling 
in anything based on wisdom 
in leaving a small boy 
lost in darkest oblivion. 

As always,
Thank you for reading this labor of love.
May many blessings be cast upon you and yours.
With all my love,
Max















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