I was thinking about writing, and I didn’t know what to write. I thought about writing about The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, a book Jared just finished reading aloud to Beren. But you see, in the end, Robin dies, betrayed by his kin. Characters like Robin Hood are not supposed to die, not according to me anyway. And, I feel too sad to write of it. Alas.
Instead, I looked at my photographs for inspiration. I discovered that last year on this date, we went to what we call “the malls”. The big complex of big box stores off Route 22: Target, Staples (closed), Five Below (closed), Petco, Michael’s, Pier One (closed and replaced by Cooper Electric), Lowe’s, Shop Rite, Home Depot, and so on.
Upon leaving these stores, my hair smells like out-gassing plastics, anti-bacterial socks, dryer sheets, detergents, deodorizers, fragrance-infused cat litter, perfume, and probably the Target brand bath salts that we bought when I had the flu in Florida (the salts may have helped me clear the flu, but they did not help my urinary tract). Or upon leaving another set of mall shops, I might smell like out-gassing plastics, urethane, burlap, lawn fertilizer, ant killer, Windex, Preen-infused mulch, and fluorescent-blooming annual bedding plants.
In an subconscious way, lyrics come to mind. Jared sometimes sings a lyrics from “White Lines” by Grandmaster Flash: “D-d-d-don’t do it.” Regarding any of the goods list above, listen to Grandmaster and Jared.
In the parking lot, we were stinking like three toxic sweatshops. Jared found the Serviceberry trees, and look what we picked. Pounds and pounds of sweet fruits.
And, still Robin Hood is dead! How woeful!
While driving yesterday, Beren and I saw custom hot rod stopped at a traffic light in Milford. We imagined who might drive it. “You know, that kinda not totally good guy, but not a bad guy, from Zita the Space Girl comic? Ummm,” I trailed off.
“Piper?” Beren said.
”He’s not a bad guy,” Beren answered.
“No, I know what you mean. But, he’s complicated. Like Han Solo or Robin Hood. You know what I mean? Not bad, but doesn’t follow the rules all the time. He’s a renegade,” I said. Raising my eyebrows, I looked over at Beren. By the slight smile on his face, he knew exactly what I meant.
Silently, we agreed. That is the way to be.