Johnny Forrester

Johnny Forester was a tall lanky boy for an eight year old. He had a freckled face, two big front teeth that one day his face would grow into… yes, but in the meantime, the kids at school laughed – pointing to his ‘bucky beaver’ teeth. Doesn’t take much to sour a sweet child’s spirit. As for those children in school… pointing and laughing? As momma said, those who grew up pointing in malice, don’t usually stop – nothing’s just funning to the one left hurting. Grandma said that you have the pointers and those who are pointed at. Needless to say, Johnny didn’t realize how deeply that childhood experience affected him until a friend asked why he never smiled. “I just don’t,” Johnny replied and shrugged. He asked his friend to take a picture because momma asked for one, and he never said no to momma. Of course she didn’t expect him to smile. 

Regardless, this photo op and his friend’s question brought back more memories than he didn’t want to untuck. It was curious how a seemingly simple question triggered a thousand different reminiscences… like a gatling gun. He remembered how he’d walk along a ditch and straddle both sides of the gulley – left foot on one side, right on the other. He’d walk and look down into the water, hoping to spy out a festive gathering of crawdaddies, all clutching and clinging together. As he walked, he also thought about how God looked down and saw him. Momma said that God straddled the heavens. No doubt, God saw him as he did all men… clutching and clinging… not necessarily to each other… but their thoughts… beliefs… all shaped and driven to rationalize… justify what they did and why. As for Johnny? Momma and grandma raised him to trust God and the Bible… They told him the Bible was a double-edged sword, not a club. It was a salve to heal, not a poison to put down and kill.   

Johnny too remembered his limitations. Even though tall for his age – being able to stretch his legs a fair distance – he was able to straddle right and left side of the ditch. But then, there came that point he had to cross over – one side or the other – left or right. Being stretched out, he had to push off and make the jump to one side or the other without falling in and getting his school clothes wet. So, he’d straddle the gulley as far as he could, and then the moment came when he had to decide: did he push off left or right. He hated that choice. It wasn’t as if he was choosing between good and evil – to sin or keep God’s commandments. No, if he went left, the path took him home where his momma was in the kitchen cooking the main course dinner. If he went right, that took him to his grandma’s house. Grandma baked – her specialty? Desserts. Momma would have her golden fried chicken and mashed potatoes… grandma, her cakes… pies. Anyway, he knew he couldn’t keep straddling, and that thought stuck with him. You could straddle only so long. As grandma said, life isn’t a potluck, it’s more like a progressive dinner.

“Well?” Johnny’s friend said. “How long have you and Connie been engaged?” “Five years.” “I’d say it’s about time.” “Yeah.”