Nathaniel's Got the Blues

by David L Heaney

  Nathaniel knew Mr. Leach saw this particular occasion as a teachable moment, so Nathaniel wasn’t going anywhere until the old possum had taught him what he wanted him to learn.

  “And what about young Wendel? Put your paw up to your face, and tell me what you feel, son.” Impatient with Nathaniel’s hesitation, Mr. Leach grabbed his front paw and held it up to the scars on his face, where Nathaniel had been burned during the fire. “Where would Wendel be without you? He’d be a goner, mate. So then you became his eyes and guided him out and away from the fire even though you had every reason to simply look after your own safety. Without you, my boy, there would be no Wendel.”

  Then, completely caught off guard, Nathaniel felt, rather than saw, a faint glimmer of light. At first he experienced something similar to what it feels like to have a drink of water when you are really, really thirsty. That moment when you drink and drink until suddenly you realize you’re satiated, you have quenched your thirst. Nathaniel then felt a deep connection to Mr. Leach and to Birgit, to Wendel, to Pip, to Jid, even to Ricketts. He understood not just with his mind but also with his heart how completely unaware he was of what Mr. Leach had been saying all along. It was so clear to him everyone has a unique purpose that cannot be understood by simply adopting another’s discoveries. Life’s big questions are tangled in with the experiences one has. And wisdom is not measured by the size of the following one attracts. Nathaniel considered this for a moment and wondered whether it was simply in one’s nature to follow the followed because they must have something everyone wants … the answers!

  “It’s kind of silly, isn’t it, Mr. Leach?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Heh heh. Silly? What’s silly, old boy?”

  “Trying to find what life wants to teach you by following another.”

  “Perhaps … and perhaps not. Heh heh.”

  “Hmph.”

  “If you are seeking to understand your purpose by vicariously living through another, you’ll miss the boat, mate. But if you engage and extract from your experience with Niles and again with Wendel, and indeed with others as well, you might discover your answers to be very different from theirs, but learn they played an instrumental role in your discoveries … I think you, too, will learn that the answers keep changing … as all things do, old boy.”

  Nathaniel thought hard for a moment, squeezing shut his eyes. Then, smiling, he opened them again. “Wait, I think I might understand. You see, I’m wondering, Mr. Leach, if my purpose might lie in escorting others on their paths to understanding their purpose. A guide, as you said. Maybe kind of like an angel.”

  “Heh heh heh heh. That’s ridiculous, Nathaniel. You’re just a rat, not an angel, my friend. And that’s enough. Heh heh heh. An angel? Heh heh. Nice thought though.” Mr. Leach laughed again and shrugged, nodding his head as he walked slowly toward the McCorkles’ home. “You better hurry if you’re going to catch up with your small friends. They’re headed to Salvador’s, I believe.”

  “That’s right. Aren’t you coming?”

  Suddenly Mr. Leach stopped, turned around, and called to Nathaniel. “No. I have much to do, including telling you just one more thing, my friend. Life is rarely a solitary matter. We need others in order to discover the questions to ask, to uncover the answers and help define our purpose. Then we need others to fulfill our purpose. We’re just too complicated to do this on our own. Our lessons are our own. We just need others to get to the answers.”

  “Oh,” Nathaniel answered. Just when he thought he’d understood, Mr. Leach always added something to confuse him. He willed his mouth closed before he could ask any more questions.

  “Bye-bye,” Mr. Leach cheerfully chirped. “Heh heh heh.”

  Nathaniel shook his head and ambled down the path toward Salvador’s.

  A song came to him on the way home. He laughed as he put words together to make the song, and the laughter startled him in a rather unusual way. Nathaniel didn’t feel used up or depressed. Instead, he felt energized through the engaging he had done with others. He felt tired in the best way, not lethargic but exhausted from the investment he was making in that which surrounded him. Was he happy? It was a silly question. He was engaging and extracting.

  Sometimes I feel the words I speak

  will just get in the way.

  The truth I long to share with you

  is not what I will say,

  because I’d rather talk than listen.

  I’d rather talk than listen.

  I’d rather talk than listen.

  What I don’t like, I’ll be missin’.

  And I just can’t shut my mouth.

  I got the gumflapper blues.

  Oh yeah, the gumflapper blues.

  Keep on flapping while their yapping,

  ’cause you just won’t like the news.

  EPILOGUE

  Salvador pretended not to notice the procession of mice led by Jid Wendel and Jida Pip that arrived that chilly morning in December. They were, after all, field mice and very small. He was aware, but unconcerned, that access to the old barn was conspicuous—Salvador made sure of that. He knew they would return to the outdoors as soon as the weather warmed. “So,” he said to himself as he shrugged, “a quien le importa?”

  During the colder evenings, Salvador built a small fire in the firepit behind his house and brought fruit with him to share with Mr. Leach. Both the mice and Nathaniel and Birgit could hear the sounds of a one-way conversation that Salvador had as he shared his fruit with Mr. Leach.

  As for Nathaniel and Birgit, their life looked very much as it had before Nathaniel was disabled by his melancholy ruminations around growing old. A closer look at their household revealed that some things had changed quite a bit. Nathaniel had become more mindful of the depth of affection he had for Birgit. This was very much a function of engaging and extracting. He had known but never fully appreciated the fact that Birgit, as he would say, “was always the truth teller, just like Mr. Leach, who never hesitated to act when the need was evident.” Nathaniel appreciated her capacity to understand how offering care to competing factions appeared easy for her. Nathaniel told his children and grandchildren and his great-grandchildren and their children that Birgit had an “eagle eye” for designing solutions that satisfied the needs of even the most divided communities, big and small. “She’s a win-win girl!” he bragged.

  Indeed, it was Birgit who had privately counseled Wendel to consider the wisdom of shared leadership with Pip, since their gifts and skills of a keen intellect and a perceptive heart were complementary and greater than what either could do alone.

  Perhaps what had changed most about Nathaniel was how he regarded the world. “The world,” he would tell others, “is full of secrets it longs to share.” Instead of regarding age and a dwindling supply of time as his enemy, he learned a loss of curiosity was the real enemy. Time, he thought, was his friend and a precious commodity. Nathaniel found he was energized by engagements. It was relentless curiosity that led to new insights and stimulation. He visited the mice occasionally but was also busy with his own family, who he found he was quite fond of, somewhat to his surprise. Another discovery for Nathaniel was finally grasping the reality that everyone has a path to walk that is uniquely shaped by who they are and what they must learn. You cannot borrow or commandeer another’s path. Your own is always waiting for you.

  Lastly, each day, Nathaniel held out a time for what he called “musement.” He practiced musement while walking, sometimes while eating, while watching his great-grandchildren, while doing almost anything. Musement, he decided, was simply the act of curiously considering something and wondering what secrets it bore and longed to give up. It might be a thought he pondered. It might be an object or a subject he encountered. Musement was the act of training all your senses and intuition to be attuned to the world. It was a matter of recultivating or never forsaking t
he childlike curiosity that comprises wonder and drives questions that beg for answers. It was engagement at play. The world, as Mr. Leach had taught, was ready to teach him all of the greatest lessons of life if he was prepared to do his part in engaging and extracting. Nathaniel was quite content to view the world this way and reached deep inside himself for one more song.

  I’m feeling contentment.

  I guess I’ve paid my dues.

  No living with resentment,

  ’cause I banished these old blues.

  Yes, I banished these blues.

  Mean and nasty blues.

  Be rid of your blues.

  You’ve got nothin’ left to lose.

  These vanishing blues.

  Everything remains a mystery

  until you are engaged.

  Open up, hear their history,

  even if you have to beg.

  And you’ll banish your blues.

  Banish your blues.

  Be rid of your blues.

  You’ve got nothin’ left to lose.

  These vanishing blues.

  Once you have engaged, my friend,

  then now you must extract.

  The fruits are worth what you will spend,

  ’cause the blues ain’t comin’ back.

  Because you banished your blues.

  Those dark and oily blues.

  This work that you choose

  means you will only lose

  these vanishing blues.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  David is the author of A Yorkie’s Tale: Lessons from a Life Well-lived and The Black Fox of Beckham.

  Publisher’s Weekly wrote of A Yorkie’s Tale: “Heaney offers wisdom, poetry, and humor in his narrative. His distinctive animal characters—pictured in Tatu’s expressive watercolors—will resonate with middle grade readers.”

  A Yorkie’s Tale was a semi-finalist for the BookLife Prize Competition (2018). The Booklife Prize Reviewer writes, “Heaney’s middle grade novel is a unique contemporary story that pays tribute to classic works of children’s literature through its poignant and sophisticated approach to dealing with questions about death, purpose, and grief.

  He has enjoyed several careers all focused around assisting others with major life changes. After twenty years as a parish minister, he practiced as a marriage and family therapist. He then switched gears after being recruited to work as a senior executive with a large private company assisting governments around the world with the development and management of their social assistance programs.

  David earned a BA in Philosophy at SUNY, College at Purchase, a M.Div. from Yale University Divinity School and another M.A. from the University of San Diego in Marriage and Family Therapy.

  David lives with his wife Lynda and their three dogs in St. Louis, Missouri where he writes and Lynda is Vice Chancellor for Advancement at Washington University Medical School