Could It Be: Your Life Is A “Never-ending Story?”
It’s been about a year since I buried my baby brother’s bucket. Inside was a pendant that read “Courage 1893.” He never let me in on the significance of 1893 but there was something about that year that tugged at his heart and hovered over time. We’d walk pass a street light and he’d say “Stop right there, I gotta get this.” “Get what, not another picture,” I’d say and he’d just start snapping away as he grabbed the photos that shot rapidly through the polaroid camera. Then he’d take dirt and smear 1893 in the center of the film frame. “We’re classic,” he’d smile and say. “What are you going to do with all these photos,” Mom yelled as she stepped through piles of iconic film cards and pictures. Weird. Classic. Spontaneous- that was him! He was committed to making film using images from the photo album that stored all the memories of Dad and us going on our first road trip to the Grand Canyon. “First one to the top is a rotten egg,” he’d yell, knowing that I would beat him. Laughing, Dad watched me wait at the top for Pudgy knowing I hated slowing down but that was my brother, exercising his gift to keep the moment light and filled with laughter. We were two peas in a pod. From the day Mom and Dad brought my baby brother home, I squeezed and kissed his fat dimple cheeks. Pudgy was the name I called him. Mom told me that he was special. His heart was strong for delivery but he came out missing the leaflet structure of his heart, which caused it to leak. Grandma and Grandpa watched me as Mom and Dad stayed at the hospital for Pudgy’s heart surgery. Doctors said he would need to stay on the ventilator for six weeks but Pudgy did it in three. Since then Mom called him her warrior child.
Today I went to his memorial site. Following the trail of orange, white and ivory colored pedals Mom left, I could tell when she came during her break at Fossils & Flesh Mental Health Clinic. “Hey Pudge…I miss you, but you already know that too. (pause) “Mom just left….you know that too. (pause)” As the wind separated my bang to reveal my forehead, I picked up a white piece of paper torn from the page of a book, clinging to Pudgy’s marble stone. It read “1 sweet treat, in bed by 8, rolling up film 9 times 3.” Pudgy. Quickly turning my head to see if anyone was sharing the memorial space with me, I softly said “Pudgy.” He used to say this riddle when Mom gave us a slice of pound cake before bed. Puzzled, I looked back at the marble stone and said, “You know how to keep me on my toes.” Letting the moment end with a loud “I love you,” I placed the piece of paper in my jean pocket and was looped back to work with ease.
Working as a Veterinarian kept my protective nature going since I didn’t have Pudgy to look after. “Good-afternoon… Dr. Boyle?” “Hi, yes, that’s me,” I said. “I’m Mrs. Polta, I saw your ad in Sundays paper and my neighbor says that you’re the best Vet in town.” Leading with a smile, I told her that she came to the right place. “Please complete this file for your Poodle. What’s her name?” I asked. “We call her ‘9 times 3’.” Really, I thought as my eyes widened. I know it’s an odd name but she’s a rescue dog and her collar said ‘9 times 3’ so we decided to keep that name. “Okay, thank-you for completing the file. I’ll take ‘9 times 3’ and we’ll head to the back. I assure you she’s in good hands.” Gazing in her eyes, I knelt down to pet her head, neck and belly. Panting with her tongue out, she licked my legs and hands before I began her grooming procedure.
“Hi, Mrs. Polta! ‘9 times 3’ is ready for pick up. She’ll be in the doggy play area when you arrive.” “Oh my, thank-you, Dear! That was quick. I’m on my way.” Mrs. Polta arrived with ‘9 times 3’ shiny leash and asked if I modeled. “No. I don’t,” I bashfully responded. “Well, my Momma always told me don’t go round tellin people what they should do…but Dear, you have the face, body and my husband would love to photograph you.” I hesitantly took the photo not realizing that my short daze may’ve appeared rude. “Is everything ok, Dear?” Nodding my head yes, she said “Call him Al and tell him that I told you to come to his photography lot at 8. Have a great night, Dear and we’ll see you soon.” After she left, I shut the lights out and locked the doors. Pondering the card in my palm, I pulled out the piece of paper from my jean pocket and questioned if this would be good for me. Pudgy was the only one that I shot with. “Classic,” he’d say. I could hear his voice echo in my conscious.
“Yello.” “Hi, Mr. Al, this is Dr. Boyle. Your wife, Mrs. Polta recommended me to come photograph with you tomorrow.” “The Mrs. told you to call uh, did she tell you what the shoot was about,” he laughed. “Gotta love that woman, she keeps my hair grey.” Tickled by his humor, I told him that love will make you do that. “My parents have been together for 35 years, married for 20 and the greys come in thick with honey.” We both laughed. “Can you be here tomorrow night at 7:30? Our setup time is 6:30. We provide hair, makeup, clothing…this is top of the line, Hun, so please get your beauty rest. Park in space number 1 and walk through the double doors of the lot. Craft and services will be to your left and your trailer will be on the right.
The lot was in a secluded area with digital screens, people on walkies, and men and women dressing the set design for the shoot. “Welcome to Hoilliday, PA. 1893. Classic,” the sign said. Pudgy. omg. My eyes watered as I covered my mouth. “Excuse me ma’am, are you Feynazzi Boyle?” Clearing my throat, the wind pushed back the puddle beginning to drop from my pupils. “Yes, I am.” “Welcome, I’m Tranquil. I’d like to show you to your trailer.” “Thank-you, Tranquil.” What a fitting name to match his smooth caramel skin. He smiled like he knew what I was thinking. Placing his hand out to assist me up the steps, I turned to him and said “You’re quite the gentleman.” He smiled again and said, “Thank-you.” “Need anything just buzz me using that walkie,” he said as his eyes lingered into mine. “Will do,” I replied softly. I collapsed onto the tan leather sofa and exhaled. Is this real? Turning my head to the mirror that screamed “Classic,” with florescent bulbs along its sides, I noticed the bucket of Cranberry Apple cider and a slice of pound cake. Pudgy. What are you up to? “Knock knock,” the stylist said as she entered with her assistant. “Hey, Feynazzi! I’m Safaye and this is my assistant, Kusani. Nice to meet the lady of the day.” “Nice to meet you too,” I said joyfully. “We’re going to get you ready for the first photographed scene in front of Provident Hospital with the Dr. Daniel Williams statue. He’s the first african american heart surgeon, so I’m thinking the red petticoat under her dress. But the photograph will be black and white…hmmmm, we’ll keep the the petticoat to add volume but change the color. Let’s do the corset and vest coat,” Safaye continued. “Step into the light, Hun…there’s that’s gorgeous. Al will love this for the shot….Kusani, write this down: we’ll need the hair pulled back from her face. Her bone structure is perfection…..ok, we’re all done here, Hun. We’ll leave your wardrobe here and come back to help you dress.” Tranquil appeared on the side of the steps as they opened the door and announced that the hair and make-up was ready for me. “I’ll walk you there,” he said. “Thank-you,” I replied.
“Hi, my name is Virgi.” “Nice to meet you Virgi. I’m Feynazzi.” “So let’s get you started.” She whooped my hair up nice. The slick twist and roll over bun captured the time period perfectly. “Hey, Virgi…how much longer you need? Al needs Feynazzi on set within 20.” I heard a mans voice say through the walkie. “She’s all done. I’ll send her back to her trailer to dress and Tranquil will walk her over.” “Awesome. Thanks, Virgi.”
Safaye sent Kusani to assist me with my wardrobe while Tranquil waited outside. Kusani opened the door and Tranquil grabbed my hand as I came down the steps. Following his lead, we traveled into an “S” shaped path that swirled into a new world. 1893.
“You’re stunning. My wife’s always right,” he laughed. “We’re going to have you stand next to the Dr. Williams statue and just be natural. You can walk around like your amazed by his accomplishments or like you’re discovering him the first time. Just don’t be flat or stoic. I welcome you’re imagination, Hun.” “Okay,” Nervous, I walked into position feeling the studio lights kiss my cheek and visualized Pudgy behind the lens. The camera began to flash. I told you we’re classic. And just like that, I stepped in the past, made it present and a new story began.
Written By: SADE E. MOORE™