aaron_the fall of america_chapter_38

Chapter 38

I have a life. It doesn't appear to be mine but I'm in it. Everything is foreign, especially the people. Though their verbal gruntings are a familiar language, I have trouble knowing why they speak. Sometimes I attempt an appropriate response if it seems necessary but it has been better to make people know I'm a quiet person.

I am very strong. Though I don't remember having done them before, I executed one hundred push ups before my long run and one hundred when I return. I have so much energy I sometimes just want to punch things.

I started a new job. I stock shelves and help pack customers bags in a nearby grocery store. If an elderly person needs help, I take their bags to their car or taxi. Their honest appreciation is my job's greatest reward.

Yesterday I went to church. Sunday everybody goes to church. The speaker talks to us about things from the Bible. I don't doubt they are all true but I can't understand the speaker's argument. I'm willing to accept the facts and just sing the songs.

It's quite nice to know you can go there each Sunday. It's good to see so many people together being happy. When I can't listen to the speaker, I concentrate on watching the people. They all have lives outside of the church and it's fun to guess what they are. It's not an easy game because I forget what it is people do.

Sometimes, when I wonder what I am and what I am doing, I believe that I am an invalid. The notion strikes me as odd; I don't feel I should be an invalid and people don't treat me like one. When I've worked this out I go on to wondering if my senses have been dulled and I perceive in a lesser dimension that I should be in. But it's likely many people feel that way when their life seems simpler than they had hoped for.

I suspect I must be careful. I try to trust no one. They could hurt me. They may be watching and testing me to see if I'm acting the right way. They may play tricks on me when my defences are low.

I have a subscription to the newspaper and I keep my television on when I'm home so that they know I participate. In case they are watching me, I've left the television by the window so they can see the light. On Saturday's I often take my paper to the park and sometimes even try to read it.

I think I'm doing things the correct way.

The world remains outside of me and I act as one should act. As long as my room isn't bugged so that they find out I keep the volume down on my television, there is no reason to suspect there is anything wrong with me.

A girl at the church tried to be my friend. She said I could call her and go visit her. She said she had her own television and that her dad didn't mind if friends watched it with her. She had no reason to like me; she had only seen me in church. I wondered if she might have to watch me to see how I acted.

She likely wasn't involved in anything though. She was too busy. Whenever I called, she was busy. Her brother would tell me she would call back but she never did. Her brother didn't seem as though he wanted to hear from me. He and his friend had laughed about me at church.

Because of the pain I feel at not meeting her, I stopped trying. Maybe I will go to a different church. A bigger church would be better so that I wasn't noticed. I could be comfortable with my resign to emptiness. If no one sees me, I can accustom myself to it. I can accustom myself to anything.



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by Joanne B. Washington

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