Ah, welcome back dear reader. In case you don’t remember what happened before, here’s a brief synopsis. In Part One, our narrator was schooled in pong by a senior who appeared aged in spirit, and the senior proceeded to tell homeboy a tale that he says will come in handy. In Part Two, the senior describes how, many years ago, he and his friends encountered an odd bum that would grant them each a wish. As we rejoin the senior’s narrative, he is about to describe the nature of the gift the bum is offering …
Part ThreeThe senior, aged in spirit, drew my face close, and continued his promised tale.
From the intensity in his recount of the old bum’s words, I knew his memory hadn’t failed.
“‘I grant to you, the power to choose now what it is you’ll do with your life, I know full well how,’ continued the bum, ‘you search for this answer with strife.
Whether you desire success or fortune or fame, perhaps a boat in the Keys, a lovely wife, a loving family or a love life filled with ladies, it shall be yours but choose wisely my boys, your wish shall be your fate. If you discover in years your vocation suits ill, by then it will be far too late.’
Billy Bob, the country boy, was the first to speak his mind, ‘Old man, here’s my ante, for I know what I want to find.
Fortune and power I wish for myself, both hands in the affairs of men. Why not a shot at running the free world? I surely think I can!’
‘Forgive my cliché, but your wish is my command!’ the bum turned genie then cried.
Forward this day, your name will be great, but your curse is to cheat and to lie.
A president you’ll be, powerful indeed, a more potent ruler has yet to be found; but a day shall arrive when your deeds will divide, and you’ll run the world into the ground.”
Now I didn’t know what to make of the old senior’s tale; what sad bum could have such power? — to curse a young man and change history itself in a time not more than an hour.
“I’m skeptical still,” I interrupted the senior who had so handily beaten me in pong.
“By your will I’ll continue and explain my thoughts — please it won’t take too long,”
The ancient senior went on, “my friend Billy Bob found his destiny not quite so great.
Though confused and afraid of the strife he will cause, he’s unable to escape his fate.”
The next to respond was my good buddy Phil, who’d been dating his girl for three years.
I knew what he’d say before his words found sound, his future inspired no fears.
‘I’ll stick with my girl,’ the lover-boy said, ‘all I want is a great family life, and for all time to come, through thick and thicker, I’ll stay home with my wife.'”
“Well that sounds real nice,” I interrupted the senior, “seems like his choice was sound.”
“That’s what you think,” he replied smugly, “but fulfillment’s not so easily found.
I spoke to Phil’s wife two summers back; she was distinctly deprived of elation, because her hubby knows his family won’t leave him, he utterly lacks appreciation.
He ignores his own kids, mopes about the house and watches too much TV, not having to work at his family relations has made him surly and mean.”
Part Four“So, I suppose your last friend’s fate was just as dreary?” I asked with restlessness.
“More or less,” the senior quipped, “he wanted lots of money and women and got the whole mess.
Last I heard he was residing in Bel Air and reeling in eight figures, with five Hummers, four houses, three brats, two shrinks and a gold-digger.”
“Ugh, sounds miserable,” I sarcastically stated (to many his life would sound fly).
“You said it,” the senior missed my point, “I had the misfortune of visiting him last July.
His kids are spoiled, his prostate is swollen, he can hardly find the will to leave his lavatory; he admitted his misery, he’s gone through enough money to pull eastern N.C. out of poverty.”
“So that leaves one question unanswered,” I hurried the senior along, “how was your response to this bum’s usurious gift not wrong?”
“Ah, the point indeed we’ve come to my boy,” the senior’s eyes gleamed, “I saw through my friends’ foolish desires, I knew that anything we dreamed would bring naught but disappointment or ire, by that bum I’d not be reamed.”
‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I can think of nothing I’d rather do, than to go back to our party and have another brew.
I want nothing from life but to revel and have fun.’
‘Very well,’ the old bum declared, ‘your fate is now done.
I frequent those places all over the country and you shall join me, to warn kids of the peril if they should answer my questions loosely.’
For more years than I recall I’ve been to parties like this, accompanying that ancient spirit warning his prey of their upcoming chance so, if not prepared, at least they will fear it.”
Our time was nearly done. “We’re up again!” my buddy suddenly called from downstairs, “Aight, I’m coming!” I responded, and when I turned my head back, the senior was nowhere.
I descended to play my last game of pong before I’d stumble to bed, with the ancient senior’s last words still echoing in my head.
What will become of our narrator? Was the senior happy with his destiny? Will the new math teacher inspire a group of inner-city underachievers to rediscover themselves and buy into their poorly performing and insufficient academic environment? Tune in next time for the exciting conclusion to this modern epic.
E-mail Ken at viewpoint@technicianonline.com.