Sitting in Hallways

Daniel had been battered so badly by his Army Soccer teammates in the Bulgarian city of Varna, that he was lucky it was just his left arm that became paralyzed. With the limp appendage in his way, the lanky athlete could never play the game again. However, the communist soccer players were apparently not through with him yet, for Daniel got a tip that party operatives were after him, and that he must run for refuge. He ended up at a small Tuscarrora Indian trailer reservation, 25 miles from Maxton, North Carolina, and met Andy, a slow, awkward, and middle aged cattle herder with frizzy hair and a tattooed neck, who was to be his only friend. Andy’s thirst for knowledge about the mysteries of city dwelling spawned their first conversation:

"Why did your ancestors leave you cities that aren’t even finished yet?" the Indian asked, thinking of all the construction sites he had seen in urban landscapes on his portable TV.

Daniel answered in the English he had picked up at games abroad, as well as some that had accidentally sunk in from art school.

"It is up to us to finish their grand vision."

"And when you get tired?" Andy begged to be humored.

"Then it’s up to our children."

"It seems not even their children will ever get the job done!" teased the Indian.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Why shouldn’t they, in turn, leave the work for their own children as soon as they get tired? In white culture, it seems, children are nothing but an excuse for not getting things done." Daniel smiled at that. He admired a smart ass with theories on anthropology.

"I hope your ancestors at least figured out the meaning of life for you," Andy continued.

"No, as a matter of fact they haven’t!" The soccer star was pretending to sound scornful.

"Of course not," said the Indian mockingly, "you left that to your children as well. I’m beginning to think that the only way your civilization will ever achieve anything is if you stop reproducing!"

"Your tribe has children, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, but our ancestors had already completed ultimate enlightenment, before taking the responsibility of conceiving our generation."

"Hey, your people know the meaning of life?"

"No, we left that to our ancestors..." said the Indian absent - mindedly, before ignoring him. Enlightenment was in the sun. Meaning was in its warmth, not in children - an old man from a colony of Shakers had told Andy that. Dozens of times, actually. The man had been a victim of Alzheimer’s! Much like a goldfish, he rediscovered the sun every 20 seconds...

At least Andy’s new companion had memories encompassing more than the lifetime of a moth. Andy supposed Daniel took him for a sort of religious fanatic, on account of his "Woe to Them that Are With Child" speech. The Indian had gotten that right out of the old Shaker’s holy book, and it was nothing more than his way of impressing Daniel.

The eastern European, however, didn’t have to work very hard at impressing Andy. He told stories of how he liked having picnics in the shoulders of highways at rush hour, of the pleasure he found in tripping up all the patrons of Varna’s Public Library by sitting on the floor for days, and of his passion for taking rides on buses without ever getting off. Meanwhile, his Army Soccer team mates, he’d say, were attending orgies. Thus, the fact that Daniel was popular with the ladies was a mystery to them.

"How do you get laid so much?" his teammates would ritually ask him at the locker room.

"I just hang out by city corners, and every time I see a piece of ass, I ask her if she wants to come to my place and do the nasty..."