Linus
“There was this one guy, Linus. He had found religion and would never shut up about it. Every time you turned around, it was The Great Pumpkin this and The Great Pumpkin that. On and on, it was enough to drive you crazy. Brown often found himself dropping the nickel on a shrink just to rant about how nuts this guy was.
“Every day the same thing! If I have to hear about this Great Pumpkin one more time I’m going to wring his scrawny neck!”
But every day like clockwork, Linus would show up again and here it would come.
“You know that it’s almost Halloween, Charlie Brown. Soon the Great Pumpkin will come and we won’t have to worry about a thing. When he comes, we’ll all go out and sing pumpkin carols!”
Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. “Look, Linus. I don’t give a shit about any of that nonsense. I just want to play today’s baseball game and not have to listen to you yammer about this and that. The Great Pumpkin! God almighty, if I have to listen to any more of that I’ll kill myself!”
Linus shrugged and clutched at his ratty blue blanket. “It’s O.K., Charlie Brown. Even if you don’t believe in The Great Pumpkin, he still has pity for you.”
“You tell The Great Pumpkin that he can stick his pity up his ass! What has he ever done for me! Now get out of here, kid, I have a game to pitch!”
asleep in the cold
he waited in the pumpkin patch
that entire night
fell asleep in the cold with the chill
wind drying his tears
on his cheeks.
waited until he couldn’t stay
awake any longer and just
tuckered out
sally came with him
waited an hour or two before she
got too tired and headed home
to sleep
she told him not to stay up too late
that he’d catch his death
of cold
gave him a small light kiss
on the cheek
and he never noticed
there were a few times that he thought
was that him over there?
no, just the dog
just a trick of the light
pulled his blanket closer
and sighed
when he finally fell asleep
he dreamed
of the Great Pumpkin holding him close
telling him it would be
all right
and when he woke up there was no one
just the pumpkins
and his blanket
but somehow for him
that was enough
Charlie Brown
I awoke at 9 a.m. and was sick, just like every morning. My head pounded and I was sweating when I’d finished vomiting. I washed up and put on a clean shirt and checked the refrigerator. I pulled out a beer but what I really needed was whiskey. Enough to drown a Mississippi River of pain.
I sat at the table and looked at the mess from the day before. Broken kites, a battered baseball mitt, a rock. I thought about calling someone up, then decided I didn’t need the company.
I looked out the window and saw my dog just coming home. He clambered up his doghouse and flopped down on the roof, belly up, dreaming. A yellow bird flew down and perched nearby, appraising the fat beagle. I took another swallow of beer and decided to head down to the store for a bottle of wine and a cigar.
I pulled my cap down low and squinted against the morning sun. As I passed the ball field, some fellows called out to me.
“Hey, Charlie Brown! Hey, come pitch for us! We need a pitcher!”
I waved them away. “Go to hell, Shermie. Get lost, Franklin. I’m sick. I’m in no mood to spend the morning looking for my socks and shoes after every pitch.”
I got to the liquor store and bought the cheapest bottle of wine I could and decided against the cigar. I leaned against the low brick wall outside the store and drank the wine out of a paper bag. It tasted sweet but I knew it would turn my guts in a few hours. Pig Pen wandered over to try to bum a quarter. I told him to get lost before I kicked his ass.
When I was about halfway through the bottle, Schroeder came by and leaned with me. We sat there for a few minutes, not talking. I gave him a pull from the bottle. We passed it back and forth and watched the morning together.
“You’re a piece of work, Charlie Brown,” Schroeder said.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, it’s always the same with you. You try to fly your kite, you play baseball, you drink all night and you’re lousy at all of it.”
I thought about it and took another swallow. “I guess someone needs to be lousy at everything. Otherwise you’d get no perspective.”
Schroeder laughed and sucked at the bottle. “I guess you’re right. I guess we need you after all.”
“We won’t be eight years old forever, you know. Good grief, these are the best years we’ve got.”
We went on drinking, celebrating the day. In a little while I’d go out again, try to fly that kite. Try to strike out the other team. Just keep trying, that’s all I can do.
