A Life

A small boy sits quietly in the noiseless back yard. The sky is empty except for the Sun and an occasional bird or insect.   The temperature is almost perfect with very little breeze. There is rally today and all of the neighbors have all gone off to attend it and help protest some cause or another. The subject of the gathering didn’t matter as long as they all could participate and yell and scream. The boy is happy they have taken all their noise elsewise. He is busy.

With as much care as he can muster he places one ball on top of another. He knows that if he is careful and very precise they will remained stacked and form a type of column with no edges. But alas they have fallen over again. Without a second thought he gathers the offending balls and prepares to start again when his father arrives with a quiet fanfare and a large box.

John almost giggles with curiosity at the box as his father sets it down. Along with his father John stares at its contents. There in the box is what looks to be a very large tarp. “Today we fold” his father announces almost at a whisper. At that moment his father upturns the box and the tarp flopped to the ground. It has no organized shape or form. It’s just a lumpy wad of cloth and can hardly be called anything.

The sun was about to set and they would be called to supper soon so speed was needed here. They spread the tarp full out flat and begin.

One corner to another.  One edge precisely over another. Their pace quickens as the unsightly bundle begins to take shape. And as if by magic they are done. The tarp now sits at their feet in a folded square. The beauty of its organized form is now complete. Something else has been discovered that moment. John found himself. He will fold. He will become a folder. And on that peaceful day it was as if the non-existing clouds parted and a star was born.

All though school John folded and dreamed of folding. The other boys found ways to misbehave but John found that folding pleased him and kept him out of trouble. There were no folding group like football so he made his own group and met with himself after school and folded. He was a gang of one.

When all that pesky schooling had run its course John opened his own fold shop. Early one day a man came in with a ball of rope and ask what could be done with it. They both worked into the small hours of the morning but in the end it was just a coil. The loop just lay there with no corners to be seen and no straight edges. It was really not better than the balls he had tried to stack so many years before. Hell. They had not planned ahead and the ends didn’t even line up. While they labored at the task John had thought for a moment maybe he’d become a collier, but no, folding was his calling.

When he looked at something he tried to imagine how it would look folded. He once stared at glass of water for a full week and it about drove him to crazy. His opinion was that if a thing could not be folded, it had 1 strike against it and should be used with care.

Once he traveled to Japan to learn Origami. But after 4 years of very hard work he went back to his simple shop. This was a waste he thought. They end up with all manner of odd shapes and edges. He wanted smooth and organized.

Now he sits in his shop and waits for the occasional load of invitations or cloths to fold. When he is board he walks to the Laundromat and helps out for free. One day a very small boy child entered and looked serious. John thought perhaps he saw himself. But no. In the end the boy announced he would become a sound painter.

 

John now mostly sits and dreams of folding.

Reviews

[alanwgraham]

I enjoyed your story - very imaginative! It's true how many of us do get hooked on strange pastimes - I'm not telling! There were one or two things that you might think about. Would it fit better if he might become a coiler not a Collier? In the last para' board should be bored. Also I'm not sure what a sound painter is.
Could you work it round to some lesson or conclusion? Just a thought.
It is a good, quirky tale!
Regards,
Alan

[Patrick JL]

Thank You..... I leave most of that kind of stuff to spellers.... A sound painter is just like a folder but he does it in gravy.

[alanwgraham]

One of the great things about this site is that you can get constructive criticism. I make lots of mistakes myself and I value the feedback I get here. If you are serious about writing all these boring things like spelling, grammar etc are important because otherwise we don't know exactly what you are trying to say.
Sorry if this sounds like your English teacher but your writing skills deserve to be worked on.
Regards,
Alan

[Patrick JL]

HAHAHAHAHAH In 1966 Miss Kodani, my English teacher, said much the same thing. But if I spelled everything correctly what would all those "spell checkers" do? They would be out of work and living under bridges. Besides----- Writing for me is like watching a baseball game. I will never make any money at it but the popcorn is good. In all cases--------- Thank You for your time and effort. ( my guess is you don't live under a bridge and your choice of hats is much the same as mine.)