The One - "Song 4: Separation" Segment 4

 Originally published May 6, 2019...

What is it that draws people together? Pulls them apart? Can the initial attraction of any relationship last? What cause it to continue or terminate? At this point in our narrative, we are not going to know for sure when it comes to our three characters (to date) – the protagonist, Jani, and the teacher. One might cheer for the teacher, or contrarily, hope that Jani’s way will influence the situations at hand. Regardless, what has been a modest, youthful narrative suddenly blossoms into adventurous shenanigans. . . . Or are the exploits more than that? See for yourself.

Song 4 – Segment 4 of “Separation”

I call out and Jani strides to meet me.

“I’m surprised you waited for me, Jani.”

“Oh, there was nothing else to do right now.”

            (Fortunately, seeing Jani stand there

                        stanches my tears – dried deep behind my eyes

            If Jani notices anything wrong

                        no words rise to name it or question me)

“Well, what’d the old man have to say to you?”

            Jani asks as we walk toward the edge of town

“He talked of birds!” I say with mocking tone

            (I do not want to talk of sparrows’ hearts)

“Birds!?” Jani says scrunching nose, crumpling brow

“Yeah. That’s all,” I say and Jani drops it

 We grab at weeds along the Outskirts Road.

I assume – but do not ask – that Jani

            is not expected home – the same as me

I decide to press again on Jani

            “So, why did you wait for me by that tree?”

“I thought we could do something fun – maybe—

            if there is such a thing in this dull town.”

“Just what did you have in mind for us now?”

“Well, I like to climb. Where I come from, we

            had high bridges over rivers, and hills

            to sit up high and look for miles and miles.”

I think hard because Chickopee is laid  

            out flat and boring as a tabletop

            (Somehow pleasing Jani feels important)

“There is a lookout tower over there,” 

            I say then quickly add, “but we are not 

            supposed to climb up on it anyway.”

“Just the thing,” clucks Jani, eyes brightening now

“I’ve climbed it once or twice,” I lie to hide

            the fear prickling up my neck.  “But someone’s

            there now until sunset, Then it’s too late.”

            (I’m sure I’ve wiggled out of Jani’s trap.)

“We can wait and, in the meantime, we can

            make a kite and tail to fly from the top.”

“A kite? That’s something a kid would play with.”

“You leave that part to me. Come on! Let’s go!”

Jani turns back toward town trotting briskly

            (I might as well see what happens I think

            as I lope stride-for-stride beside my friend)

As we enter village roads, Jani looks

            from side to side conjuring the kite parts

Now stealthy as a stalking cat, Jani

            bends forward, runs ‘longside a windowed house

I follow slinking.  At the back, some clothes

            and rags are strung out on a line to dry

In a flash, Jani pulls a three-inch knife

            and with the quickness of a practiced thief

            slits the line – wads the bundle under arm.

With less sound than riffled leaves, we’re away

I can’t believe what we have done in less

            time than I could even think, and we’re away

            from the thieving place, I stare slack-jawed, shocked

            at Jani’s determined, untroubled face

A mile out, slowing to a trotting gait

            I’m still dumbfounded at what we have done

“What’s the matter?” Jani asks sincerely

“Oh nothing!” I say sarcastically. “ ‘Cept 

            we’ve just transformed into thieves and I think

            my father knows the people in that house.”

“First time, eh?” Jani’s grin slides through thin lips.

“Well . . . yes,” I say for that’s the truth of it

“Don’t worry,” says the thief, “You’ll get used to it.”

“If you say so,” I taunt and sneer. “But tell

            me how can we make a kite out of that!?”

“Watch and learn,” crows the experienced teacher

We leave the path and hide behind a shed

Jani wields the knife and with expert strokes

            slashes the cloth into long ragged strips

The sound of splitting shirts tears at my heart

            I say nothing of my thoughts: My father

                            could have worn that shirt.  A poorer friend used

                            those rags.  The waste of it sours my gut, but

            I only think and watch and sit with this.

Jani fashions an ugly kite complete

            with crippled tail.  “Won’t ever fly, “I warn 

“Maybe not,” says this sometimes-honest thief

            “Let’s go see.  Where’s this dangerous tower of yours?”

“That way,” I say pointing west where the sun’s

            already half behind the trees.  “Come on.”

Now I’m the one who shepherds us onward

My leaden feet keep moving toward what’s next

Soon we stand beneath the wooden tower

No one else there in the deepening darkness

“Since you’ve climbed before, you go ahead up.”

“All right,” and I grab the wobbly ladder

My hands sweat and slip and my heart races

Half-way up my knees start to shake.  I stop.

Below, I see Jani has the harder 

            climb lugging line and tattered cloth – kite tail

                            trailing down. This doesn’t seem to trouble

            Jani whose gleaming eyes spark above white

                            teeth clamped down and holding the three-inch knife

We reach the platform at the top where night’s

            cool breeze plays stronger than on ground – my breath

                            short, and rapid – my ears on stems for shouts

                            from below, but I can’t hear over my 

                            panting and my heart pounding in my ears.

 Jani, on the other hand, appears fresh

             – exhilarated – hair tousled wildly

The energy’s contagious and my crime

            takes on smaller shape as I let fall free

                            my guilt, a small dead bird, from this tower

“Hey, this is great!” chirps Jani.  “Almost like

            the view back home.  Well . . . add some mountains and

                            a bigger river running down valleys . . .

            well . . . it is not the same but I don’t care!”

I am silent at the expanse of land

            sprawling out around.  I have never seen

                            half so much before and it makes me see

                            that I’ve been right about this town of mine

It’s even smaller than I thought it was

            the lights pale sputtering flames ending day

            the house I live in somewhere in that gray

            Roads invisible –  sound all gone away

How can I live constrained to this tight place?

                            wind skittering through leaving crumbled yellow

                            dust, when I belong on the deep green sea?

I feel sticky tongues darting out to catch

            me – the bug– sliding down a long dark throat . . .

“Help me!” Jani says, untangling cloth and line.”

I’ve lost interest in the kite at this point

            but I’m not going anywhere alone

                            and Jani is shrouded like a mummy 

                            in the kite commotion so I bend down 

                                            sit on the platform and unwind the toy

Soon we have it straight and it’s time to sail

We pay out line across the wood railing

            kite wings nothing like white sails in my dreams

            this kid’s toy a poor tattered used up thing

                            that flops and gasps like a gutted fish

 “Come on, Jani.  Grow up. There’s more than this.”

“Just wait! Just wait. the breeze is coming up!”

Jani wags the dangling kite – a long-shed

            snake’s skin, a shade of life but after death

“Come on.  Let’s go.”  I start down the steep steps

“Wait! There it goes!” Jani waggles harder

             so hard the streamers catch the tower’s brace

                            and clutch it like a frightened kid clinging

                            tightly to his mother’s gray-skirted leg

“Oh shit!” stamps Jani. “Now I’ll have to use

            my knife.” I see this is a happy thing

                            as under the guardrail Jani swings down

                            clambering catlike, the kite-freer, unafraid

                                            clamps knife between teeth again and grabs out

                                            horizontally making for the brace

“Watch out!” I feel compelled to shout although

            a fall now might improve this thieving day

No response from Jani now clinging to

            the crossbar and cutting twine – reaching ‘round

                            to unwrap it – now a high-wire rodent 

                            Jani hugs the rigid pole and sliding

                                            to the next support as I reach the ground

                                            I look to see if I can help from here

                                            but I am shaking for my own safety

                                            not for Jani, slashing like a banshee

                            sailor freeing shrouds and sails from off dark

                            timbers standing tall against rowdy winds

I cannot help but wish I were Jani

            so wild, so free – with knife between white teeth

            slicing shroudsfrom off the standing rigging

            and I –cowardly grounded down below

 Halfway down Jani steps on a crossbar

            a crack – a break – the wooden finger’s rotten

                        and Jani a sudden stone falling fast

                        kite tail in both hands – knife thuds beside me

            Jani dangling like a deep-hooked sea fish

                        slamming hard against the upright tower pole

Cold sweat shiver-beads, sliding down my back

            as I – safe and helpless – watch my dangling 

                            friend who descends again, swift and thrilling

                                        fearless insect clasping tower with legs and arms

                                        ‘round the steady mast of the wooden pole

I inhale hard as I see disaster

            coming, and Jani again but slower

            more descending to where I stand waiting

                            among the tatters of the kite come down

Jani reaches ground breathing hard, sweat-soaked

shirt and bleeding hands that reach down quickly

for the three-inch knife as for a diamond

“That was great!” gasps Jani trembling lower lip

“Yea, why not die today,” I say half envious

“Don’t be a sparrow!” the reply half spit

As we head back into town, thrilled and tired

            I want so much to be my daring friend

            who climbs dangerous towers and who does not fear

                            a violent pitch into sudden darkness

                            who lives wild as if breath will never end

 Background

What would youth be without risk-taking? The very nature of adolescence is one of exploration and discovery. At this age, we can’t really help ourselves from frequently walking on the thin edge between exhilaration and disaster. That said, our two characters have quite different perspectives on risk – a long spectrum, if you will. In the segment above, Jani’s knife symbolizes all this and more. The knife is an ancient weapon – perhaps the oldest other than fists. It carries an aura of the primitive and the savage. Jani carries one proudly and is unafraid to use it.

The comparative lack of italicized lines has something to say: although young people dream, their dreams tend to be passionately diverse and in the present moment. It isn’t easy to hang onto the stories of adventure we’ve had or that we’ve told ourselves when very, very young, because entering adulthood’s nascency, places one on the cusp between childish fantasy and youth’s dreams.

The segment finishes Song 4, which will soon be added here with the previous Songs from The One. Its contents have taken us almost a year to navigate. Life is short, sweet, long and terrible. So is this Song.

Exploration #1: Why does Jani wait around while the teacher meets with the other student? What does Jani need?

Exploration #2: Why is the teacher willing to spend extra time with the two students? Why does Jani decline the invitation? What is happening with the main character as the relationship with the teacher deepens?

Exploration #3: What do Jani’s kite-making and tower-jumping say about an attitude toward life and risk? Why do you think this is so?

Exploration #4: Another, more subtle, theme addresses hometowns. What is the difference between the main character’s and Jani’s view of Chickopee? Do you remember your hometown? Maybe you are still in it? If so, what has kept you here? If not, how do you remember that place?