Cardinal Man & The 9-11 Jumpers

By Craig: A few weeks ago I ran into a wino who I immediately recognized was not a native resident. His thick New York accent gave him away, and I wondered what had brought him south. Of course, he might have wondered the same thing about me. He was a chirpy old fellow with a beak-like nose set in between two ruddy cheeks. His eyes fluttered as he spoke,and he had a habit of jutting his head forward, perhaps a nervous tick, or some other medical condition. He reminded me of a Cardinal, not a St. Louis one like Bob Gibson, or Stan Musial, but the bird type. As absurd as this might sound, he may have been one; a mutant perhaps, showcasing his bird-like features and mannerisms, along with a long sleeved red shirt. I almost expected to see him sprout wings and take off into the trees...Cardinal man, a new superhero in the making!

     Cardinal man was a bridge dweller. He was a denizen of the lower order, one who might have reached for the pinnacle, but had slowly slid into the abyss. I was on the railroad tracks when I happened to stumble upon this strange bird. He was leaning against one of the bridge supports, and he saw me coming. I was surprised that there was no sob story before the punch-line. He got straight to business and asked me for a dollar. I believe that he was surprised when I actually pulled a bank note from my front pocket and handed it to him. He did not say "God bless you!" as they often do. no, he merely took the note and smiled showing a set of ugly nicotine stained teeth that had not seen a proper cleaning in years. It was a devious sort of smile as if he were subtly telling me "Ha! I got one!" I asked him where he was from in New york. The way he said "dollar" had given it away. He, in no way seemed surprised that I had pegged him as a New Yorker. He must have been use to the association between himself and that state. Sort of like the association that I have with New England, though I have not lived in that corner for years. He claimed to have worked as an insurance adjuster in Manhattan, but that he was originally from New London, Connecticut. His father had been in the military; the Navy, or Coast Guard, i forget which. I attempted to determine Cardinal man's age, but like most dwellers of the abyss, it is hard to determine. He appeared to be a lot older than me, maybe in his sixties, but could very well have been younger. He told me that he was married, but had no idea where his wife was, or his daughter. His wife had left him shortly after 9-11. He was an alcoholic, a fact that his ruddy complexion and distended belly showed all too well.

     "I saw the towers crumble" he told me. I asked him if he saw the planes hit. He said that he did not, but he had watched them smoke and burn, and was close enough to see people jumping out of the windows. He said the jumpers looked like little black specks, and at first it did not register with him that they were people. After he realized what he was witnessing he told me that the "specks" turned into "little dolls." I found this to be a rather strange comparison, but who knows what I would have thought had I seen this horror. He told me that after the spectacle had ended he went to a bar and got drunk. I told him that I would have probably done the same had I been a witness. Yes sir! dilute the chaos of irrational madness! the anarchy of the mind and send it to the subliminal world of the tipsy euphoria where dreamers, poets, vagabonds, and drifters dwell. Go ahead Cardinal man! tip the bottle to your lips and take a big swig. it will come out right in the end. He offered me a drink from the paper bag, but I politely declined. Maybe another time I'll join you under this bridge and together we can drink to the goddess of the earth and laugh at the fools who get snared into the trap of idealism, and hate...the realm where the seeds of 9-11 horrors are born. I'm right! your wrong! I'm right! your wrong! What the hell, here you go! Have a drink buddy, come join us in the abyss where nothing is wrong and nothing is right and where you are truly free of the materialism that keeps you captive! I left Cardinal man to his bridge, or should I say, his nest where he seems to have found his peace. I moved along, still searching for mine.