Could Some Story Really Have This Much Impact?
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There was definitely something different about my old town when I got back, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but as sure as the sun rises in the morning it was there. It’s not like I had actually been gone that long or anything, it had been what two, maybe three weeks since I had left to do that big out-of-state contract. But the few people that were out were out walking along the street seemed to have an extra bounce in their step and a sparkle in their eyes. It just seemed so out of place, especially on such a cold winter day like this one.
At first I thought it was just my imagination as I drove down the old main street up to my home, but as time went by I could feel it more and more. It was like that itch on your back that no matter how hard you try, you just can’t seem to scratch. You know, the kind that sooner or later drives you absolutely crazy until you can’t even think about anything else but scratching that itch. This was my hometown where I had lived my whole life .. but somehow not the same place at all at the same time. It was somehow more. It would have been creepy except it just felt so .. right!
Before actually going home I stopped at the local gas station/fast food restaurant combo (the only one in town incidentally) to fill up my car and grab a bite to eat, as I knew there wasn’t a scrap of food left at home. As I pulled up to the pump, Larry, the owner of the place came out into the cold, and with a surprising brightness to his as-of-late lackluster eyes, and with a friendly smile on his face he asked me if I wanted regular, premium or supreme gas and offered to check my oil while he was at it. I was more than a little surprised to say the least. Larry hadn’t done that for anyone in years, even in the summer time, let alone on a bitterly cold winter day like this one. He had been too busy tending the counter and mopping his brow with a worried look on his face. Business just hadn’t been going well for him the past few years and the strain had been getting worse each time I saw him. I almost mentioned the almost the huge change to him, but thought better of it, not wanting to make him feel that I wasn’t getting the service I thought I deserved on previous visits or anything. He can be a little touchy about things like that.
After being waited on by an unusually efficient and cheerful cashier though (which was definitely not the norm around there), my curiosity got the better of me, I just had to say something.
“So, you seem to be in good spirits,” I said to Larry as he closed the hood of my car “business been going well lately?”
“Never better” he replied with a grin, “truth is, a week or so ago I was getting my bankruptcy paperwork all together because I just couldn’t handle it anymore, the whole business was falling down around my ears. Then, of all things, old Clyde came by to fill up his car and he told me what has to be the most incredible story I’ve ever heard.” He paused for a second. “Well, I guess you could call it a story .. or maybe more of a dream. But anyway, it made all the difference in the world to me when I heard it.”
“Hold on a second,” I said “are you telling me, that hearing some story or some dream could make that much difference in your whole life? You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m having a hard time believing that. Especially coming from old Clyde, what good has that old recluse ever done for anyone?”
At that Larry actually laughed out loud. “More than you can possibly imagine, this obviously must be the first place you’ve stopped since you’ve gotten back into town. Of course just listening to the story won’t make any difference, you have to actually take it to heart. You know, have just a bit of faith and take that first step out into the dark.”
“Step out into the dark? What do you mean?” I asked a little puzzled.
“Oh, that’s part of the story, that’s right, I forgot, you haven’t actually heard it yet. Here come on in out of the cold, have a seat and I’ll tell it to you as best I can.”
By this point I was at least intrigued enough that I wanted to hear what this story (or dream, or whatever on earth it was) was all about so I followed him in and we sat together at one of the nearby tables. Just as we were getting settled in there was a little scream from the back room followed by the distinct smell of smoke and burning hair.
Larry quickly went to go see what was going on and then popped his head back into the room just long enough to let me know not to wait for him as he was going to be quite a while, and that I’d probably be better off hearing the story straight from Clyde anyway. I asked the cashier what was going on and all I got was something mostly incoherent about a stray cat that snuck in trying to escape the cold, some wires that were hanging loose and a small fire, but she assured me that Larry had everything under control. I figured I was better off not knowing the details and left, fried kitty is one of those things you just don’t want to know about. I wanted to get home and start unpacking anyway, it had been a pretty exhausting trip and I was looking forward to at last being able to sleep in my own bed.
About halfway between home and the gas station though, I came across a most unusual sight. So unusual in fact, that I had to stop the car and see what was going on. Right there in the little plaza in front of our city hall was the town bum, I can’t even remember what his real name is, we’ve always just called him ‘Picasso’ for as long as I can remember. He really was one of those drunk starving artists. Undeniably talented if you could ever get him sober for more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time, but if our little town ever had a definition for failure, Picasso was it.
But here he was, not just washed up, clean shaven and wearing clean clothes, which in and of itself was miracle enough, but busily working away at something right there in the middle of the plaza. First he would measure, then quickly sketch something onto his pad of paper, then measure more, then sketch, measure, sketch, then measure some more. I was dumbfounded, whatever Picasso was working on, it must be big, and for the city no less from the looks of it. Right there in front of city hall it couldn’t be for anyone else.
I approached him but he was so busily working away he didn’t even notice me. In fact, he had been so caught up in the vision of whatever he was working on, I bet I could’ve stood there for an hour without even being noticed. Finally after clearing my throat a few times to catch his attention didn’t work, I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone come so close to actually jumping right out of their skin before in my life. It was actually pretty funny.
“Hey there, you’re looking better than I’ve seen you in a long time, what are you working on so industriously over here? Especially in weather like this!” I asked him quickly, before he had a chance to say anything or ask me for money to buy another drink with. He may have been cleaned up more than normal, but hey, Picasso was Picasso. Or so I thought.
I needn’t have bothered asking so quickly, it took probably a good twenty seconds before I got a rather distracted reply from him “Oh, the city has commissioned me to make a statue for the plaza here, and I’ve never been so excited about any sort of project before in my life, I want to get it done as soon as I can.”
“Really, they were finally able to decide what they want here after all these years? What did they finally decide on? … Please don’t tell me it’s a statue of the mayor.” I said with a groan. Our newest mayor always had been just a little too full of himself.
“Hah! not likely. It’s an eagle, what else would I be so excited about?” came his reply as he made a few more careful measurements.
“An eagle? I guess that makes sense, being the national bird and all, it’s a good symbol.”
Picasso suddenly stopped his sketching and looked up at me with a puzzled expression “Well, true, it is that, but more specifically this is the eagle from Clyde’s story -” then he paused for a second “oh, wait a minute, that’s right, you haven’t been around for the past few weeks have you? I bet you haven’t even heard Clyde’s story yet.”
“No ” came my slow reply, “I haven’t heard it yet, if it’s made that much of an impact on you though, would you mind telling it to me?”
“I wish I could shout it from the rooftops, it’s completely changed my life. It helped me finally realize the prison I had put my self into, with the alcohol and everything. I finally figured out what the difference was between me and all those other ‘lucky’ artists that much worse than me but who seemed to always got awarded the jobs that I deserved so much more.”
“Wow, must be some story to give you all that,” I said “well, go ahead, let’s hear it.”
“Well, honestly, I don’t think I could really do the story justice. Plus I’ve got to get these last details done so I can finish the sculpture. The city council is very interested in the project and are coming to see how it’s progressing first thing in the morning. You really ought to hear it straight from Clyde anyway, no one can tell it better than him, you know, straight from the horse’s mouth or however that saying goes.”
I blinked then just looked at him for a few seconds “Yeah, you’re probably right I said finally, I guess it’s not really that important that I hear it right this instant. Anyway, I’d better let you get back to work and get myself in out of this freezing cold! See you around.”
“Later.” he said as he went back to his sketching and measuring, already off in his own little world before I had taken my first step back towards my car.
What a weird coincidence, I thought to myself as I finally pulled into my driveway, that first Larry and then Picasso could be so affected by some silly story. The city council must’ve really liked it too, if they finally agreed after however many years on a statue to have placed in front of city hall. I tried to put it out of my mind but it kept coming back stronger and stronger, like that itch I was talking about, let me tell you, something like that can be enough to drive a man insane.
So, after unpacking my car I finally decided to myself that I was going to stop by old Clyde’s place on the way back from the grocery store that evening and find out for myself what was so amazing about that confounded story/dream of his ’straight from the horse’s mouth’ as Picasso had put it. Plus, while I wasn’t so convinced that it could magically do for me what it seemed to have done for Larry and Picasso, it ought to at least cheer me up after having to endure Loreina’s dismal I’m-a-helpless-victim-of-circumstance attitude about life. It was always a wonder to me how someone could be so negative all the time and still stay sane. There really wasn’t hardly a scrap of food to be found in the house though, so I didn’t really have a choice but to head down to the grocery store where she worked.
I guess I really shouldn’t have been surprised by this time, but somehow I still was. I pulled up to the grocery store and walked in just like normal, expecting to find Loreina either dejectedly shuffling about the store stocking the shelves, or with some poor customer cornered somewhere telling them her tales of why the world just isn’t fair to her, how she was so helpless to help herself and everyone else had it so much better. What actually happened when I walked in the door was shocking, even after everything else that day.
Even after Larry and Picasso I wasn’t prepared for what I found, after all Larry had been a businessman, sure down on his luck but everyone has times like that. Picasso was pretty much the most talented artist I had ever known, just stuck in an alcohol induced rut, he was bound to pull himself together eventually. Loreina was a different story, I don’t think she had had so much as had a positive thought in her life. As I walked into the store though there she was, with the most radiantly beaming smile you’ve ever seen. Loreina never smiled. Ever. Before that day I didn’t think it was even physically possible. It was like having the sun rise in the west or having rain fall upwards, it simply didn’t happen. But there it was, and not only that she was wearing a brand new name tag, it read “Loreina, Store Manager”.
While I was still getting over my shock, you know, picking my jaw up off the floor and all that, she came over, shook my hand and welcomed me back from my trip. Finally, I found my voice enough to say “Loreina, you’ve changed! You’re actually friendly now er, that is, I mean, that is, congratulations on your promotion!” I finished lamely, my foot stuck squarely in my mouth.
She just laughed, smiled and said “Thanks, I finally know what you mean about that first part, I feel so bad now that I was always so negative to everyone. I finally realized how my own negative attitudes were shackling me down and keeping me from all those things in life I was always so jealous that everyone else had but I never thought I could. I finally figured it out, that nothing good is out of my grasp if I’m willing to just put forth the effort and reach out for it.”
I was speechless, what could I say, somehow Loreina had figured out what was probably the most important thing she could ever know in her life. By this time, I actually expected what she said next.
“Say, you know Clyde right?” she continued “He was in here the other day and told me the most amazing story about this experience he had .. ”
I couldn’t help it, I held up my hand and cut her off “Yes, I’ve heard a thing or two about this mystical story of Clyde’s,” I blurted out, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell it to me will you? Everyone else seems determined to drive me totally crazy talking about the blasted thing.”
She laughed and said “Sure, seriously though, no one can tell it like Clyde can, let me take care of a few things real quick and then we’ll sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.” Of course, right at that moment an entire shelf full of produce collapsed and she had to rush off and go take care of it (I was really starting to see a rather annoying pattern here!). It was obviously going to keep her busy for quite some time, this was the point that I decided fate had it in for me and that I was never going to hear that stupid story.
Of course, being as stubborn as I am, it just made me determined to hear it no matter what. I finished up my shopping with the intention of heading straight to Clyde’s home. On the way out I came across my old buddy Timothy, after exchanging the regular pleasantries he asked me the now expected question, that’s right, if I had heard this amazing story and how it had completely changed his life.
The scowl I gave him took him back a bit, I immediately felt bad and said “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve been hearing all about that confounded story all day but no one will actually tell it to me, in fact, I’m on my way right this minute to get it straight from Clyde.”
“Well, you’d better hurry” Timothy told me “I hear Clyde is on his way out of town, some newspaper reporter got wind of him and his story and wants to write an article about it.”
After hearing that I quickly said goodbye, got in my car and made a beeline to Clyde’s home. Just my luck, I got there just as he was leaving. I jumped out of my car and raced up to him just as he was walking out to his car. But what I found was not the hunched over old man I remembered seeing occasionally shuffling around town. This was a man that stood tall and erect, purposeful, smiling and with a twinkle in his eye that said there was definitely something right with the world. You know, one of those people that make you a little happier just to see them walk by.
“Wait!” I called out to him, “I’ve been hearing all about this mystical story of yours but no one seems to be able to actually tell it to me. If you have any consideration for a man’s sanity, then please, tell it to me already, I’m begging you here, please let me hear it.”
He was really taken back for a second or two by my intensity, but then he laughed a bit and said “Well, I don’t know anything about mystical, but it has been an experience that’s completely changed my life for the better, and seems to change the life of most everyone who more than just hears it, but actually listens to it.”
“Well, I’ll reserve my judgment on it either way until after I’ve actually heard it” I said “we’d better get started though, I don’t want to keep you any longer than I have to.”
“Sounds like a good plan and I’d be happy to oblige you if I could, but unfortunately I’m already running late, however - ”
At this I started to object with some pent up frustration, but he held up his hand cutting me off, I could see he was holding back a sympathetic smile.
“As I was saying” he continued “however, I happen to have typed the story up to give a copy to the newspaper reporter in writing their article, and I actually have an extra copy right here which you can have. That way you can take it home, find a nice comfortable spot and read it at your leisure.”
I blushed a little at being less polite than I really should have been, thanked him very gratefully, wished him well on his trip and headed straight home, story in hand. Finally I would get to the bottom of this story once and for all!
I found a nice, comfortable spot on my sofa and got to reading. Now I’ve got to admit, by now I had pretty high expectations for this story, probably higher expectations than any story should really deserve. Let me tell you, I read it once, then re-read it again and I finally started to understand how it could help all those people so much, it managed to be even better than my already high expectations for it were. So, without further ado, here it is, in Clyde’s own words:
Go to http://www.pyhasil.com/see-story to access Clyde’s actual story!
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