It was a day like any other. The cool wind of autumn swept over me
as I sat on the concrete steps leading to our porch. Somehow I had ended
up sitting here watching traffic pass. The highway was not but ten feet
straight in front of me. A concrete walkway led to the sidewalk that ran
parallel with the highway.
It was a slow Sunday, only a few cars coming down the road every
now and then. When a car would come I would examine the contents of the
car, seeking eye contact. Usually people would go by without noticing me.
These people were all caught up in their own lives. However one or two
people would turn their heads and look at me as they drove past.
Something in their eyes seemed to be speaking, saying, "Who is this boy
that sits here on a dreary day."
Summer was just over and the seeds of fall were planted. The sky
that hung over my head was a dark grey. Water would soon fall and
splatter on the concrete before me. This gloomy weather was enjoyable for
the simply solitude and peaceful quiet that it brought. No one was
outside except for me. I was alone on those steps. There was no sounds of
people except for the infrequent visits of cars.
I find that the absence of white noise brings my mind to
contemplate. Often before I would retire into my unconscious slumber at
night, I would ponder questions and try to formulate answers. The weather
had brought with the peace, questions. A simple observation of how a leaf
moved through the air would give me more questions to ponder. It was the
magnitude of concentration that sent me into a half unconscious, half
conscious state. My mind in an effort to give my contemplative thoughts a
higher priority had decreased the sensitivity of my senses. My vision
glazed as I stared at nothing. And the rustle of the wind no longer
registered in my ears.
It was in this state that I was startled by the stranger. I was
contemplating the origin of life it self when I heard a deep but soft
voice call out. "You seem to be a man who worries too much about the
questions of life to really enjoy it."
Startled I looked up and saw a tall black man who appeared to be
entering his late fifties. He wore light colored slacks
and a white shirt with a collar. His clothing looked awkward as I looked
up and saw it against the grey sky. His hair was slightly white on the top
and he wore an eloquent beard that was also turning white. Behind a pair
of glasses were his eyes which were alight with intelligence. He wore a
smile that never left his mouth. "Who are you," I asked the man who
seemed out of place in such a dismal environment.
"I am simply an old man who was walking, enjoying the peace and
saw a young man who seemed to be working his mind too hard." The stranger
looked anything but old, he may have been old but somehow he had kept his
youth. He extended his hand for me to shake. "Where are my manners, my
name is Horace Butler."
I stood up and took his hand to complete the greeting. "My name is
James McDuffie. I don't seem to recognize you. Around here everyone know
each other. So I gather, you are a stranger to our town."
"Actually," his voice was authorative but gentle, "I am from
nowhere and everywhere at once."
"That is nonsense, nothing can exist simultaneously as two
opposite things. Or perhaps your statement means more than what the
surface reveals." I was proud of showing my intelligence in analyzing his
statement. I was able to appear to understand without revealing that I did
not truly understand.
"Or perhaps you do not know and read too much into a simple
statement." I was astonshied at how clearly he could understand my
thoughts just from my speech. "But where I come from does not matter. May
I ask you a question, I promise it will be a simple one, one that even you
may understand."
Shocked by his boldness I answered with a feeble, "Sure."
"Why is it you sit here slothfully thinking, when you can be
gathering knowledge and assimilating ideas?"
"I sit here to help me think. I have clearer thought when it is
quiet and the quiet allows my thoughts to run free with out interference."
"Yes, but how can one think with a mind of ignorance. Can you
discuss physics with a scholar when all that you know is biology?"
After looking for a witty reply I could only utter, "Well I guess not."
"So why not get up, do something and therefore learn something
from what you do. Socialize with people, play baseball or football. Ride a
bicycle around town, above all do something."
I was enlightened by his suggestions. So I stood up and told my
new friend thanks. We shook hands and he started back on his walk. I
hurriedly went inside to fetch a jacket. When I returned outside I was
expecting to still see Horace walking down the sidewalk. Instead I saw
only the blank, white sidewalk I had already observed. I shrugged my
shoulders and walked in the direction that Horace had come from. After
walking a short distance I found a black boy who looked about my age
sitting on his porch in the same manner I had. I startled him and myself
when I spoke the exact words that Horace had said unto me just minutes
before. It was then that I understood where Horace Butler had truly come
from.