Al Sooley's Ancient Hickory Stick

Al Sooley never knew quite where he'd end up. From one day to the next he could calculate, hypothesize and speculate all he wanted, but as to where he would find himself and what state of mind he would wake to, that was anyone's guess, and he'd long ago stopped making the effort. He was only certain that he would find himself somewhere and with something to do. He was always astounded by the stream of events and feelings that would take him over and drive him from moment to moment. Most things he woke to do he had never done before. Once he woke up mid lovemaking with a woman who had an arrythmic and wildly overactive heart. She made what segment of their time together more interesting and freewheeling than any other spontaneous encounter. 

Today, Al has found himself slightly left of the middle of some recently plowed farm land. A man approached him from the distance. Al squinted to make out his details. Nothing could be assumed from the man and his hulking stature but that he had won his share of fights and lived his life in disagreement with most everything that surrounded him. Even the clumps of dirt clenched by the bottoms of his shoes held tightly a bit longer to slow the man's pace. Al watched the man's gait. Each step seemed to be an act of shaky will. He saw the lips and eyes and nose of a man who actively slung them about his face. Rearranging them to assess whatever situation he found himself in the middle of. The man stopped fifteen feet from Al. Wind blew between them, catching itself in the large front pocket of the unfriendly man's overalls. The man's hat blew off and trailed the earth behind him, but the man did not move to catch it. He locked eyes with Al. 

"Tracy Hillup," he slurped to introduce himself, as if speech was heavily masticated cud. "Here's your pay. Ga'an and take your business somewheres other."

Al nodded and turned to leave, but stood in his spot. Didn't move an inch. 

"Stop frightening the children. Later you'll see how you pay."

Tracy stepped to counter Al's words, but found his foot caught in some deep groove in the earth and barely kept his balance. He caught his breath so as not to alert Al to his unfortunate misstep. 

Al walked all the miles he could that day, passing a word to not one other soul. He ended the day when the sun went down. He decided that it was over when he shut his eyes. The next day he was to have began to shift his position and his mental compass to accommodate some new locale and avenue. One message was passed on the winds: "He is learning."