Monday, November 02, 2015
Passion and Radio
The Woman Who Collected
Bobble-Head Dolls
All baseball players, but she meticulously painted
a few to look like men she knows.
These she left in the steel cabinet in her cellar,
alongside the paints.
Once in a while, Love’d get them moving, and found it
humorous.
But Uncle Retz wouldn’t stop. She knew he should,
and didn’t like the idea of his going on in the
dark long after the others had stilled.
For some reason, she toyed with the idea of showing
him his doll, but all her fellows were painted on a light
cocoa base of the Afro-American players, and she knew
he’d object, imagining his saying
“Well I’m angry. And white. So I guess I’m an angry
white man. Doesn’t take an Einstein to put that together.
Or one among our darker brethren, though dat's a
contradiction in terms dere! ”
Was it rage propelled the floppy spring that kept
his doll agitated?
Love mostly rejected any magic to it, and just enjoyed,
but it bothered her not to know the reason he wouldn’t
stop bobbing.
Finally she reasoned that it’s an old house, and moves
and groans a lot more than a new one, and maybe he’s a
bit more off-balance than the others.
That was a joke and she enjoyed it!
Whether the doll moved in quantum consonance with
his hate didn’t really occupy her. Besides she was
busy in her upstairs workroom, starting on the rest of
her big collection, now to resemble TV characters.
So Love’s “family and friends” forgotten and left
in the cellar.
But one night she went there to fetch a new jar of paint
for Gilligan. And Retzy, of course, wouldn’t halt his
bobbing in the buzzing florescent light.
She found a piece of cardboard, folded it, and shoved
it in there to stop the action.
At the service, Rev Carruthers spoke of Retzy’s
Passion for Justice and Radio.
“Whatever?” Love concluded later, putting her dun
gloves away. She kept them in the little plastic box
labeled FUNRL.
