The Path To Respect

      The Path To Respect

I rolled into town late at night

after hitching a ride with a trucker.

I said thanks as he pulled out of site.

The diner was open. I’m in luck here.

 

I stuck my pack under the table.

I ordered coffee, strong, & a steak.

The waitress turned the TV on to cable.

She said ” I need it on to stay awake.”

 

“Not much business that I can see.”

She said ” It’s slow this late at night.”

I got up and went to pee.

I returned and tried my first bite.

 

“How is the steak?” she asked so sweet.

“Just like my mother used to make.”

She laughed & slid into the seat.

“What brings you here this late?”

 

“I hitched a ride with an 18 wheeler.

Back to my old stomping ground.”

“Are saying you’re from here in Cleaver?”

“It’s long ago since I was around.”

 

“Split in my teens in the dead of night.

Back then the world owed me a living.

I headed for those big city lights.

I starved. The world is unforgiving.”

 

“I finally landed a job as a busboy.

Minimum wage and a share of tips.

In time I moved up to waiter/busboy.

Then, my break came. I was up for it.”

 

“The fry cook died. I took his job.

More pay and better hours.

A place to live. That felt odd.

I had access to regular showers.”

 

“After a couple years, I moved on.

Picked up odd jobs here and there.

A few months & I would be gone.

I never stayed long anywhere.”

 

“I had my share of small town glories

Life was just a crazy carousel.

Sometimes  I suffered more fleas

than I would really care to tell.”

 

“Lately,  I been feeling sorry for myself.

I needed something to turn my life around.

Then, one day, It came to me and I felt

I had to come back to this town.”

 

“Back to where the whole thing started.

I needed a second start to do it right.

I have  felt this is where my heart is.

To do it right,  I’ll have to fight.”

 

“Fight for a respectable name in this town.

Fight to be a man people will respect.

I don’t want you to think I’m a clown.

But, I have a plan that I don’t regret.”

 

“What kind of a plan do you have in mind?”

“I met a rich friend in my travels.

I saved his life. But, that’s another time.

He had plans he started to unravel.”

 

“He wanted vineyards and a winery.

There  is big money to be had in that.

But, he needed land, you see.

I inherited 100 acres.  Right here, in fact.”

 

“He said this was ideal to grow grapes.

He would put up the money to plant.

I would share 50-50. Nothing to waste.

I owned the land on which he’d plant.”

 

The waitress said “Sounds super to me.

I own this diner & business has been slow.

I could use the extra business you see.

There’s a motel 2 blocks down for you to go.”

 

—– 0 —–

 

10 years later the wine business was booming.

They had acquired more land & planted.

Tourists came to buy & taste the wine for consuming.

“I married the waitress” he said, quite candid.

 

He was elected mayor in the local election.

He had respect & the family he wanted.

But, the greatest thing he confessed then.

He had found God & the peace he wanted.

————————————————-R. W. Johnson —–(2012)

 

 

 

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