Monday, August 20, 2012

Can’t Crack The Rock Day!

Your foreman wants to know what the holdup is.

“Just can’t do it Jeff,” say. “Just can’t crack the rock.”

Jeff will walk away from you to the sidewalk. You’ll shout at his back that you’re sorry but you just can’t do it. He’ll keep walking, not hearing a word. Lug your jackhammer after him.

He’ll be positioned right over the heart, staring down at it, his hard hat in his hands.

“Reverence,” he’ll say. “Take your hard hat off. Even if it was your love you show some respect.”

Take off your hard hat and hang it on the handle of your jackhammer.

“BT,” he’ll say, reading the initials that aren’t yours. “What’s that stand for?”

“Beth Turner,” you tell him. You were thirteen. She had red hair. This sidewalk was outside her house.

“Until she moved away,” you say.

“First love lost,” he’ll say. You’ll nod.

Your foreman will get down on all fours and scream at her initials, “WHERE ARE YOU BETH TURNER?!”

He’ll demand you join him. The two of you will scream at the initials you carved into wet cement twenty years ago, “WHERE ARE YOU BETH TURNER?!” You’ll scream until you’re in tears, until you don’t have anything to scream anymore.

“Thanks,” you’ll say as you ready your jackhammer.

“All part of the job,” your foreman will say. He’ll pat you on the back as you ready your jackhammer to bust up that heart containing yours and Beth Turner’s initials forever.

Happy Can’t Crack The Rock Day!