Charles never told anyone that the happiest he had ever been in his life was when he was 8 years old and spent most of his day blowing dandelions and searching for four leaf clovers. It was not that he did not want to reflect on such happy memories, it was moreso that he was disappointed in his lack of fulfillment since before puberty.
This is a serious moment. Charles puts on his long black tie and stiff black coat. There are no dandelions in the snow. They don’t grow when the cold comes. He is scared of getting older in the snow. It makes your bones weak, they say. He was built to be in the sunshine.
His father, before this devastation, had been a member of the Florida State Legislature. A law man, revered in his profession. His most famous laws concerned crab boats and licenses. He protected the sailors. People think about sailors when they are in the sunshine. They may not even think that dandelions are all around. Well, some people don’t have that luxury.
Just before Christmas when the school broke up for month, Charles had left
in a fit of desperation. Maybe it was the constant barrage of dandelions. Maybe it was the sailors and their families and the Christmas cards. Charles also had an affinity for prescription medication, and that may have had something to do with it. Florida
“Any poet who does not know how many rhymes each word has is incapable of expressing an idea!” he shouted to his father who seemed healthy in the sunshine but would have been a sight in the snow. Charles respected his father but would never let him know it. His extremes showed vulnerability that the cold weather magnifies. Charles had never seen 20 below.
“He sees us waving” said Charles’ mother as he made his way. Charles saw nothing. He had the sun in his eyes. By the time he got there, the cold had made a home. Time ran. The snow never melts without sunshine. The phone call said it all. A day after meeting with the U.S security council ambassadors, Charles’ father was diagnosed with skin cancer. Straight to the black tie he went.
Charles puts on his long black tie and stiff black coat. It’s a serious moment. Will they leave the casket open? he wonders while he looks in the mirror. There was an awful pause. His boots were wet from the snowflakes and ice.
The sun is cold and unforgiving. The bouquet of dandelions is naked once he enters the southern states. Kneeling down at a truck stop near the
Chattahoochee river he finds one four leaf clover.