Secret Guy Stuff

Perception is like magic

"Grandpa, why is that bird chasing the other bird?"

"Maybe he stole the birds nut? I dunno."

Paul shuffled down the path scattered in early Fall clutter. The sun poked rays through the forest canopy, still strong enough to fight back any  shadow that might be a bother to a five year old holding the hand of his Grandpa.

"Grandpa, why is that tree a different color?"

"Well, what would the world be if all the trees were the same color?"

John frowned and looked down, but quickly looked back up at Paul. "I know! It would be green!" He punctuated it with a smile.

The old man laughed and lifted his fedora to scratch what was once a crown of brown hair. 

"You got me there young man. You know you're pretty smart!"  He stopped and the young boy stopped to look up into his face, squinting at the ray of Sun in front of them.

Grandpa leaned down and put his face even with John's. "You know you have to be careful with knowledge. Did I ever tell you the story of Maury?"

'Who's Maury?"

"Maury was your Grandpa's best friend. Maury never said very much but he was good to have around." Paul glanced to his right. "Here, let's go sit for a bit and I'll tell you Maury's story."

"But I want to go see the ducks Grandpa!"

"The ducks will be there when we get there. That's their job okay? We go see them, they be there when we get there."

The older man led the boy over toward the table. On the way, his small shoelace undone, John tripped over a branch hitting his knees and landing on his arms, elbow to palm. He didn't do anything at first, obvious surprise spread on his small face, then the mouth turned into a circle and the whimpering began.

Paul picked up the young boy, and dusted off the knees of his Oshkosh jeans. "Now, it's not that bad, your Mom is gonna be pissed at me for letting you get your nice outfit all dirty, but hey it's the woods!"  His weak attempt at humor was lost on the little guy.

"My hands hurt Grandpa!" The ends of his yellow, red, and blue pullover were soiled and there were scratches on his palms. 

"Well, I suppose they do. That's what happens when you fall you know? You land on your hands, and your hands hurt for awhile." 

Paul reached the bench and sat down; the boy in his lap. "You know what big boys do when they get hurt?"

John shook his head, holding his hands out in front of him like they were offending robots, his little mouth bravely trying to remain stiff.  

Paul leaned in close and looked both ways, he whispered "They rub dirt on it."

John twisted his head to the side to look at Paul, his face pinched in disbelief "What? Grandpa you making that up?"

"NO! Have I ever lied to you?"

"You told me to pull your finger so you could fart."

"Well, that was in fun, that wasn't a lie it was a funny. This is different." He leaned down,

"But you can't tell any girls, not even your Mom. This is Secret Guy Stuff!"

'Okay." John smiled, feeling better.  He got down and grabbed some dirt, rubbing it in his hands. When he was done, he stood up and squeezed his hands together. Then he pulled them apart and dusted them off. 

"Wow, that works Grandpa!"

"You see? Secret Guy Stuff I'm telling ya. It works!"

"But I can't tell any girls."

"No, no girls. They don't believe in the great power of dirt. At least most of them don't. Some do, but mostly you ... well. You'll figure that stuff out for yourself when you get older."

"Can we go see the ducks now?"

"But I was going to tell you about Maury."

"I want to see the ducks."

Paul looked at his watch, then looked at the Sun.

'Okay, we'll do it your way. I'll tell you about Maury later."  

He got up took the young boy's hand. The two continued their stroll to the duck pond.

"You know any more Secret Guy Stuff Grandpa?"

'Well, yes a lot but most of it I can't tell you until you're older."

"Okay, Grandpa why do squirrels move so jerky?"

'They're nervous on account of they think we might try to chase them and eat them."

'Yuck!"

"I know, huh?" 

They disappeared over a small hill.

Author's Note

Please forgive me for listing this as a poem, but there is no choice for 'Flash'. It's short and I hope you will take time to read! Thank you

Reviews

[Frieda P]

I like your short story here Mark, so all this 'secret guy stuff' happens that early, eh?......explains a lot, muchly enjoyed!

[Leslie Philibert]

Nice piece of prose, endearing and witty...

[Pryde Foltz]

An enchanting read. But rubbing dirt into an open wound; you'll get anthrax. I kid. Thank you, Mark.

[Mark]

you are such a girl! :P Thanks for reading hon :)

[Pryde Foltz]

I confess, my palms are clean. lol.

[mandy]

Mark, I liked it,,enchanting, but down to earth too...lol..pull my finger!

[Mark]

Thank you Mandy