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Rex’s Story
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The Saga of Rex Smith
By:
Steve Erdmann
Copyright, C, 2021
Another version of this article can be seen at Rex’s Story – https://wordpresscom507.wordpress.com/2020/06/07/
*****
Here’s to Rex Smith –
One hell of a man –
He could beat you at Checkers –
With one tied hand –
He knew every red space –
Every black square –
And spot –
And if you thought you could beat him –
You’d have to learn more than –
A lot.
*****
But life was not his checkerboard –
Please crown him now King –
The moves he made while living –
Required a few more things –
His cluttered, dirtied apartment –
Did not royalty make –
And iced and strewn sidewalks –
Threatened his lower flank.
*****
Still Rex –
(Some called him, Bud) –
Persisted to lavish his friends –
And those befriended –
(And quite sure he took with him –
Fond memories of men –
And those left unattended –)
With his love for Virginia –
Not much stronger then he –
And by her side did stand –
Undauntedly vigilante –
Till she crossed into that –
Spiritual land.
*****
I remember the time –
He and his girlfriend did not speak –
Two weeks without discourse, phone, or gram –
Rex would be seen on porch –
Vodka in hand –
I’d swear if he would not be there –
That tiny porch would collapse –
But often he’d stand there –
Heavy thought –
And time passed.
*****
Heavy breathing –
And drinking –
And talk about friends –
Family and happiness –
Shuttered the man –
As girlfriend Virginia passed away –
His Security Check in hand –
And some token appreciation from a widow’s providence –
Bud still took care of Virginia – and Virginia them –
Without a whimper –
A fight for survival –
Followed the man.
*****
“Stop tht damn drinking –
“My neighbor and friend.’’ –
His double-chin would wobble –
Cigarette in hand –
A twinkle in his eyes, he’d muster –
His rough texture would past –
“Do you give a damn about me? –
“Will your friendship last?’’
*****
Did I or didn’t –
Rex’s health had laid plans –
“Would you come to visit at Piggott?
‘‘There’s a grave in that land –
‘‘It’s held in reserve by family and I –
“And it’s there in that plot –
“That I’ll soon see Arkan.”
*****
I knew Rex was no daisy –
Or flower in full bloom –
But you’d take him for granted –
Like an old tavern spittoon –
He’ll always be here –
That old buzzard and friend –
He’s had a few good years –
If no real wins –
But extremely lonely –
He’ll keep that inside –
But you could tell by his demeanor –
He needed allies –
And he was willing to pay –
A price, a ransom –
To always hold hearts –
To treat people as grandsons –
To wish for fresh starts –
His choice, his selections –
Left much to be mentioned –
Some were drinking buddies –
And some were just spies.
*****
But it became clearer and clearer –
His contribution to time –
His presence on sidewalks –
Cooking, coffee –
Taking rides, sweepstakes tickets—
Baseball and rhymes –
His kitchen window, aglow –
A beacon in the night –
All these contributions did Bud –
Towards life, make a strike.
*****
These things and places –
Bud would make sight –
Kitchen-window, I can see it from here –
A harbor spotlight, you knew he was there –
Sitting at his table, fumes in the air –
Watching his TV favorite, ear glued to the phone –
While his voice somewhat quivering –
Would tell his sis a poem –
His humor, his wisdom –
Reflected his line –
And he became as one with cantor –
Ribald jokes and rhyme.
******
And then there was the night –
The old country-boy departed –
For weeks on end, no whiskey or drink –
Did his weaken frame sorted –
But rather, a quiet burden –
A silent contention –
Seemed to muscle his humor –
And one night early –
Rex became broken hearted –
No longer a rumor.
*****
Outside the Quick shop, he grunted and groaned –
“Are you all right?” —
“Hell, yes but let us move on!” –
But he wasn’t, tears in his eyes –
But he need not, should not have lied –
Back in the car, drops in his eyes –
His breathing did fly –
Cold sweat descending –
“To the hospital old boy!” –
“No, no, no, to my house let us drive!” –
His eyes ten-feet tall –
“Are you sure?” His lungs filling with fluid –
“No, I am really not sure at all!”
*****
Back on the driveway –
I rushed inside, while Bud assured me –
It would all subside –
A cigarette he lit as if nothing was astride –
But he could not speak –
With the fury he hid inside –
Within minutes I assembled three neighbors –
To observe, but believe I would not –
A strange fate was to occur – I’ve never seen –Sickness come so stalking –
And envisioned a good bath and rest –
On clean sheets –
Would put Bud tip-topper –
And suited for health the next day –
Or the next –
But no more of this stealthing.
*****
Call 911, a neighbor instructed –
“No, oh no, you won’t!” –
Bud suddenly interjected –
Listen, we told him, you go now –
Or go later –
I will not –
He murmured and mumbled –
And continued to argue –
With ambulance coachmen –
I stood by the tele –
Waiting a call from his dear sister –
When his buddy, George, said ‘head on’ –
“Go Take him, he’s acting peculiar’’ –
“He’ll willingly go with you –
“And none other.’’
“This time he’s not lying.”
The ambulance driver would follow—
To swerve and park –
If Bud looked like dying.
*****
Bud wanted to know if the ambulance followed –
But at the hospital entrance –
The coffer-driver departed –
A wheelchair is needed, Bud instructed –
An attendant emerged, “be careful of his polio leg.’’
The ole’ boy even smiled as he rolled down the corridor –
His last –
Never to smile –
As he did in the past.
*****
They all knew Rex down in Piggott –
By his casket, they did bow! –
The checkerboard was now closed –
And shelved –
The game over and gone –
Not another significant sound —
From the ole’ hound.
*****
Another version of this article can be seen at Rex’s Story – https://wordpresscom507.wordpress.com/2020/06/07/
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