The Impossible Cure.

My friend Ben used to watch old Lewis hobble along the sidewalk of the downtown square back in Enid, Oklahoma. Lewis always had his crutches, one under each arm, and he literally dragged his legs and feet along as he pivoted the crutches back and forth. He had gotten really good at it. Ben had seen him going along without missing a beat even when the streets and sidewalks were covered with a layer of ice.

     Ben never knew how Lewis became crippled, and he could not remember a time when Lewis was not using his crutches. His imagination led him down many paths: polio, a car wreck, thrown from a horse, a war injury, plane crash … Ben never knew. He had only heard it could not be fixed. Lewis would always be hopelessly crippled.  Ben had to admire his spirit, though. He’d often whistle as he swung himself along and nearly always had a smile to share when anyone passed him on the street.

     One evening, Ben was having a Coke with Uncle Charlie who was having something a little stronger. Uncle Charlie was himself a fixture in town: red close-cropped hair in a flat top, and a huge red handlebar mustache that he kept neatly waxed and curled up at the ends. Ben and Charlie were not really related, but Ben, along with everyone else, called him Uncle Charlie. Ben thought he was kind of like that strange uncle every family seemed to have.

     So, Uncle Charlie took a long drink of his adult beverage and ordered another one. Ben didn’t know how many he had finished before Ben got there, but Uncle Charlie did like to operate from a higher place than most people.

     “Hey, did I tell you what happened to Lewis?”

     Suddenly, Ben’s heart sank. Had something happened to Lewis? “No … what?”

     Uncle Charlie wiped the beer foam from the bottom of his mustache. “I saw him the other evening out at the big tent revival, you know, up there on that vacant lot at the north end of town. Some traveling preacher came into town and put up a big tent. The preacher claimed that God talks to him personally and tells him to travel around and spread His word. Says God gave him the power to heal just by placing his hands on people of faith, and all he asks of them is donations to keep him going. There were a lot of people there, and old Lewis was one of them.”

     “I never knew Lewis was particularly religious,”  Ben said, “and I thought he had long given up any thought of ever walking again.”

     “Well, Lewis was there nonetheless, a lot of people were, the place was packed. It was a warm night and the preacher was really wound up. I’m telling you, he had the people standing up and shouting out praises right along with him. And then he got to the healing part. Lewis was standing with a crutch under each arm yelling just about as loud as everyone else. The preacher spotted Lewis in the crowd and came right down off the little stage he’d set up and walked right over to him.” Uncle Charlie took another drink and continued.

     “That preacher had already taken off his coat, and he was sweating and swinging his arms around and practically shouting at the top of his lungs. He stopped directly in front of Lewis and slapped his right hand firmly down on the top of his head, almost knocking him over.

     “Do you believe?” the preacher shouted to Lewis. “Do you believe that the Lord God Almighty gave me the power to heal you?”

     “Lewis started shaking. The preacher asked the audience to join him in calling up the power. He pressed down harder on the top of Lewis’s head.”

     “If you truly believe that God gave me this power, you will be healed! You will walk again! I command you now, be healed!”

     Uncle Charlie went on. “He took the crutch from under Lewis’s right arm, held it high in the air, and then tossed it into the crowd. The place went wild. Women and men were weeping and raising their arms and shouting praises. Lewis was staring straight ahead in disbelief.”

     “Then the preacher, with his hand still on Lewis’s head, again shouted, ‘God told me to heal you … be healed!’ and took the crutch from under Lewis’s left arm, held it in the air and threw it nearly to the back of the crowd in the tent. Again, the crowd went crazy, more so than before. It was truly a sight to see; I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” Uncle Charlie took another long drink of his beverage and then carefully wiped the foam from his mustache as before.

     Ben couldn’t wait any longer to hear the rest. “What happened next, Uncle Charlie?”

     Uncle Charlie gave the tip of his red mustache a little twist and turned right to Ben. “Well, Lewis fell on his ass. He’s crippled you know.”

From the book "Twisted by the Wind" by Tom Hays

"Life is Just a Picnic in the Park" -Tom Hays

Mable’s Boys  (From the book Twisted by the Wind by Tom Hays)

Ben used to go down to the park on Sundays with Frankie, his cousin.  They were about nine or ten at the most.   One particular summer, things got real interesting. 

Frankie had learned how to look out for himself by that time.  He could squeeze himself into about anything interesting that was going on, and make it work out for his own benefit.

His momma spent a lot of time working, and, with no father to turn to, Frankie kind of grabbed onto Ben’s family. He and Ben were almost like brothers for awhile.  Frankie, a little older and more experienced, tried everything first, and sooner or later, Ben would follow.

So, on most Sundays that summer, Frankie and Ben would be down at the park.  They’d swing, and then slide, and then swing some more and then slide some more, climb on the monkey bars and run up and down the paths.  Sooner or later they would work up quite an appetite.

Frankie would go first, over to the picnic area where he would carefully survey the situation.  Then he’d pick out a table, one with a big family around it and a lot of other kids milling around to provide cover.

Frankie would slide up to the buffet and Ben would follow.  They would take a plate and start filling it.  Fried chicken, red jello with fruit cocktail in it, deviled eggs and pie … lots of pie.

Some woman standing by the potato salad would look them up and down, and ask them, “Now just whose boys are you two?”  Frankie knew to stuff a roll in his mouth before she got to the “you two?”  He’d use an exaggerated munching motion, moving his whole face up and down, and he would mumble with his mouth full.  Ben quickly stuffed his mouth, too.

Frankie would keep up his munching, and before he could finish his entire act, the woman would say, “You must be some of Mable’s!  My, you boys are sure growing.  Bet you’ll both be about as big as your daddy some day!”

Frankie would just nod his head up and down, and Ben would catch on and start nodding his, too, in agreement.  Then, two very agreeable young boys would slowly back away from the scene with full plates of delicious, genuine, Sunday picnic food.  Life was sweet.

That gambit worked all summer, perfectly every time … well, except for that one time … with the black family.

Ben figured the real moral to the story, politics and race aside, is to just approach life like you belong there.

Sooner or later, the world will tell you who it wants you to be to make it happy.

You just have to nod your head up and down, and enjoy the picnic.

Oklahoma, Where The Wind Comes Sweeping Down the Plains.

What a grand time! Visiting good friends, presenting the book and taking a trip down memory lane!

Susan and I braved the 50+ mile per hour winds, just like the Oklahoma natives we are, and experienced the warmth and hospitality of the great people in our old home state.

Presenting to the legendary Acorn Book Club, formed before Oklahoma was even a state, was an honor and a privilege. The ladies were very kind and I enjoyed it very much.

A special thanks to Martha Roth for hosting a reception for us in her home, and to the folks who came to help us celebrate my book.

And while I am passing out thank you's, Barnes & Noble at 6100 N. May Avenue in Oklahoma City and Hastings Books in Enid both did a great job for us at our signings. Thank you to them and the wonderful folks who came and spent some time with us.

A great, great time.

Makes me want to write another book.