CHAMELOMAN
Eugene Robinson, an elementary school teacher has just clocked
out for the day and is driving home. On
the way home, he is suddenly seized by a desire to take a short trip upstate
just to clear his head. While driving,
he muses on the lesson he has planned for these students for the following
day. The road is a beautiful landscape
of green trees filled with fruit.
Houses are for apart from each other, making a car a necessary
ingredient for those living in the country.
One would be hard pressed to get around. If an automobile wasn’t a vital part of their life. But Mr. Robinson lives in New York, a place
that is every bit as lovely as it is crazy at the same time. With the hustle and bustle of people coming
and going, New York is a veritable smorgasbord of culture. Every now and then, one needs to get away
from it all, away from the crowded subway cars, the way people just stand in
front of the train door, not allowing a person to get off, away from the
violence and away from the various noises that fill the very busy streets. Driving in the country, even upstate, offers
one a respite, a temporary reprieve from the usual clamor associated with urban
living.
Having reached a small town upstate called Dover, Eugene Robinson
enters a diner to have dinner. There
are many persons seated in this diner that bears the name of the owner, Rob’s
place.
He enters the establishment, looks around for a table
where he can be alone and collect his thoughts. Seated at a table in a corner, he motions to a waitress to come
and take his order.
The
waitress, a woman in her twenties walk over to his table and asks “Can I take
you order sir?” she asks, chewing bubble gum and occasionally blowing bubbles
holding her head to one side, in a manner that suggest an air of
nonchalance. Eugene responded, “Yes
ma’am, I’ll have today’s special,”
“Today’s special is
meatloaf, mash potatoes, green peas, carrots, and gravy. Would that be ok,” asked the waitress,
eyeing his new blue suit? “Yes that
sounds delicious. I’ll have that with a
slice of that apple pie for dessert,” said Eugene. “Sir, will you be having anything to drink with your order,”
inquired the waitress, trying to look unimpressed with Eugene’s handsome
appearance, but occasionally looking up from her writing pad to sneak a peek at
him, when he wasn’t looking in her direction.
“Yes dear, I’ll have some Sanka extra light, with two equal packets,”
answered Eugene.
“Will that be all sir?”
Asked the waitress, smiling at the idea that he had called her dear. “Yes thanks,” Eugene said, taking out a
newspaper from his briefcase, not noticing how his word dear had had such an
affect on the waitress as she walked away to prepare his order, popping the
bubblegum in a loud flirtatious fashion. Eugene looked up at her momentarily as
she was leaving and then back at his newspaper.
After he had finished his meal, he tipped the waitress, paid
for his dinner, and headed straight for his jeep, a royal blue Cherokee
Laredo. Eugene having now been for his
drive upstate, eaten a very agreeable meal, and taken in the sights, feels
refreshed. Eugene now prepares for the
drive back to New York, the city that never sleeps, a place always teeming with
activity.
Along the way, he notices
how strange the night sky looks, but soon dismisses the thought, trying to keep
his attention on the road that lie in front of him. His eyes can’t seem to stay on the road. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a
shooting star over the horizon.
“No wonder I can’t keep my
eyes straight, look at that,” Eugene said, rotating his eyes back and forth,
from the road to the sky, to see the beautiful display of shooting stars. Eugene then pulls over onto the shoulder of
the road, stops the jeep, and gets out to observe the spectacle more closely. Just as he steps out of his Jeep, a huge meteor
heads directly toward his vehicle, he jumps back into the jeep, turns on the
ignition and presses down hard on the accelerator, in an attempt to get out of
the way of the oncoming disaster. But
Eugene is not quick enough, as the brightly glowing red rock from space
overtakes him, hitting his jeep and throws him through the windshield. He lay on the ground motionless, as the rock
being now broken in two from the impact emits a strange green glow that
surrounds his entire body. A greenish
colored liquid spills out from the rock, and covers Eugene’s head, seeping into
his pores. Motorists go speeding by,
uncertain whether or not this is a practical joke; they continue to drive on
past the grim scene that is all too real.
Ten minutes later, another vehicle
passing by whose driver seeing Eugene lie prostrate on the ground, gets on his
cell phone and begin to dial 911.
An ambulance is dispatched at the scene where emergency
medical technicians quickly work on Mr. Robinson. “His pulse is very weak, breathing is shallow. We’d better get him to a hospital quick,
stated Alice. “Affirmative. His blood pressure is dropping. We’ll try to stabilize it until we reach the
hospital,” replied Theo.
Thomas Stevenson, the passersby who summoned for help, using
his cell phone stood by watching, all the time the E M T professionals worked
on Eugene. “Sir, we’re going to have to
take him to the hospital. Thank you for
calling us. He is very lucky to have
someone concerned enough to get involved,” Alice said. “No ma’am, not lucky but blessed. You don’t have to thank me dear. I thought it was the Christian thing to do,”
Thomas retorted.
Eugene is taken to a nearby hospital in Manhattan, where he is
admitted. He lay unconscious for two
days at St. Luke’s Roosevelt hospital.
On the fourth day, Eugene opened his eyes. Feeling confused because of his surroundings and in a great deal
of pain. He tries to sit up but
cannot. His head is throbbing from the
pain. He says; “right about now I need to be superman. At least, he doesn’t feel any pain; “just
then, an event took place that would change him forever. The experience was too fantastic and utterly
unbelievable. After his strange
experience and the sheer terror of it, he lapsed back into unconsciousness. After the fifth day, he opens his eyes, to
see a doctor hovering over him, a television set suspended over his bed, and an
intravenous stand near the side of his bed with a needle inserted in his arm.
“What happened? What am I
doing here?” Eugene asked the doctor.
“Isn’t there anything you can tell me?
We were just told that you had an accident of some kind.
Do you remember anything?”
asked the doctor.
“All I can remember is
driving out in the country and...and...the light” mumbled Eugene.
“What light? What do you
mean?” inquired the doctor.
“The light doctor, it has
to be the light,” answered Eugene becoming excited.
“Now calm down or I’ll
have to give you a sedative,” said the doctor.
“No doctor, I’m fine. But I remember just before I blacked out, I
saw a big flashing light come at me.
And then that strange thing that happened to me afterwards was just too
much for me to handle, that’s all I can remember,” Eugene replied.
"What strange thing,
Mr. Robinson. You are going to have to
tell me or I can’t help you,” the doctor said, his tone taking on a stern
tone.
“Doctor, I don’t know if
you can help me. I don’t know if anyone
can help me. I don’t know how much more
of this I can bear,” Eugene said. An
amazing thing occurred. Eugene Robinson
suddenly took on the appearance of a bear.
The doctor, seeing this incredible metamorphosis is stunned beyond
words. Eugene, noticing the doctor’s
expression, looked at himself and starts to scream hysterically. This sudden rush of adrenaline causes him to
revert back into his natural state.
“Doctor, doctor tell me, what’s going on...what... what’s happening to
me?” Eugene inquired, pleading franticly.
“I have a theory
Eugene. Now, keep in mind, it’s only a
theory. Have you ever heard of a shape
shifter?” The doctor asks, now more calm, considering what had just taken
place.
“Uh...yeah, yeah I’ve
heard of a shape shifter. But isn’t
that only a... Eugene tried to respond, but the doctor interjected.
“Yes, only a fairy
tale. But it’s the only sane
explanation for what’s happening to you.
We have examined you thoroughly and have reached the same conclusion,”
stated the doctor, looking worried.
“Doctor, you mean to tell
me you think I’m a shape shifter?” asked Eugene.
“No Mr. Robinson, that’s
not at all what I’m saying. I‘m saying
that you exhibit some of the qualities found in shape shifters. The ability to change your appearance at
will,” answered the doctor.
“But doctor, it’s not just
the ability to change my appearance. I
actually feel that I can do the things the person I change into can do. Do you understand what I’m saying? If I become a gorilla, I actually have the
strength of a gorilla,” quipped Eugene.
“Oh my God. Have you tested this notion of yours?” asked
the doctor.
“Doctor, when I awoke from
the coma and realized I was in a hospital, I tried to get up and was in
tremendous pain. It was then that I
said, aloud jokingly, "right now I need to be Superman." At that moment, I felt a strange and sudden
great surge of energy and strength. I
mean it was the kind of strength unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I was not only strong, but I felt extremely light. I happened to look down and that was when I
realized, I was at least four feet off the bed, suspended in mid air. But do
you know what? The pain was gone. It’s
as if taking on the shape and powers of superman had healed me. Isn’t that weird doc? You want to hear something even
weirder? My clothes changed too,” said
Eugene.
“What do you mean,
changed?” asked the doctor.
“Don’t you get it
doctor? I mean my clothes were altered
the same moment that my appearance changed.
Doctor, I’m scared. What does
all this mean? What happened to me?”
Eugene said, almost yelling.
“I hope you don’t think me
to be insensitive, if I ask you for another demonstration of this strange power
of yours,” said the doctor.
“No doctor,” said Eugene,
more calm now. “All I have to do is to
think about who or what I want to become, by holding the thought in my
mind. Who did you have in mind
doctor?”
“I don’t know. How about the comic book character known as
the flash? You know, the man with super
speed,” asked the doctor, eyeing Eugene curiously.
“Yes doctor, I read a lot
of comics in my childhood and he was one of my favorite heroes. Well let’s see...all I have to do is to
focus and concentrate on becoming the flash,” said Eugene.
Suddenly, Mr. Robinson is
trembling as his entire features change along with his clothes. He is instantly transformed into the flash,
complete with the red outfit. The
doctor is dumbfounded and he stares at Mr. Robinson in disbelief. “Oh my God.
If I didn’t see it for myself, I never would have believed it. Do...do you have the flash’s speed?” asked
the doctor, still not believing what he had just seen.
“Well, let’s see,” replied
Eugene.
Eugene paces around the room at first and suddenly he runs so
fast that all one can see is the flashing red outline of his uniform, his speed
is so intense.
“Mr. Robinson, Mr.
Robinson, that’s enough for now,” said the doctor, as Eugene reduced his
tremendous speed, he started to become visible again, having almost broken the
time barrier. His flash outfit is once
again changed into his original clothing.
“This is all too fantastic. You
know doctor; I don’t feel that surge of energy anymore, since I’ve now assumed
my normal form. Isn’t that amazing, a
real super guy in this day and age?”
Eugene said, as the doctor is awestruck at what he has just
experienced.
Things have certainly
changed for Eugene, a man who did not ask to be the one whose task it will be
to thwart thug’s plans, save persons who are victimized, and to keep the planet
earth safe from destruction, in which unseen forces lie in wait to be unleashed
upon it. No longer would his life be
the same, no longer would he resign himself to being just a mere classroom
teacher, but he will have to assume both roles. First, as an elementary school teacher and second as more than
just a man. He will become earth’s new
champion, Chameloman.
The doctor, knowing how
different Eugene’s life will be says; I hope you realize that not only have you
inherited these great powers, but the responsibility that goes along with
having them,” commented the doctor.
“What responsibility?”
inquired Eugene, looking puzzled.
“I’m talking about using
these powers wisely and sparingly. And
not using them only to serve yourself, but to serve collective humanity. You’ll be a kind of savior, believe it or
not, if you know what I mean,” stated the doctor.
“No doctor, I don‘t know
what you mean,” answered Eugene.
“Come now, you don’t think
any of this is some strange coincidence, do you? You were given these amazing powers for a reason. And that reason lie beyond our abilities to
comprehend, except that someone or something out in space knew that planet
earth would need a hero. You see, Mr.
Robinson, I believe that you have been brought to this moment by forces beyond
our understanding. And these beings or
whatever they are chose you to be the one to have these powers. Now don’t quote me on this, but you may just
be the last to have this great gift.
Indeed, you may have just been bequeathed a rare and special talent. I
mean, a talent such as those now possessed by you. So make good use of them.
Find out where they can be most beneficial and go for
it,” said the doctor, in a matter of fact manner.
“Wait just a minute. You mean, I’ll have to go around and save
people from criminals and disaster?” asked Eugene, his fear showing.
“Yes, you’ve got it,”
answered the doctor. “Well, I don’t
think I like that idea a whole lot.
I think that somebody made
a mistake. I mean, why give these
powers to a nobody like me?” Eugene quipped.
“Wait a minute now. If that’s all you think of yourself, as a
nobody well, that’s all you’re ever going to be, a nobody. But I’ll tell you what I think. You were given this gift because some
benevolent alien benefactor saw something in earth that was worth saving so
they chose you to be the one endowed with great powers. They could have chosen anybody, but instead
they chose you.
Think about it, Mr.
Robinson. You don’t really think you
were given these powers not to use them, do you?” Answered the doctor, his anger growing.
“Right about now doctor,
not using them sounds like a good idea to me.
I don’t relish the thought of making headlines.” Snapped Eugene.
Well, you’re too late,
you’ve already made headlines, see?” said the doctor. He shows Mr. Robinson a newspaper from a week ago, which read; a
man, whose name has not been identified, lay in a coma, after a meteorite
struck his Jeep. Eugene is beside
himself with worry, fearing that news of his accident will bring on the curious
seekers of information, further exposing him.
He had to get some place where he can think all of this through, some
place where he can be alone, some place where there’s no one asking him
questions, and some place where he is not thronged by reporters, whose aim is
merely to report, without no thought to the danger they might be putting him
in.
“Doctor, I can’t handle
all of this. This all has happened so
fast. I mean, it’s not right for this
to suddenly happen without a person being prepared for it,” Eugene said.
“And if you could prepare
for it, when would you designate a day it should occur?” the doctor said,
displaying genuine sarcasm, but in a manner that he hoped would get Mr.
Robinson’s attention.
“I don’t know doctor, I
just don’t know. All I know is that
I’ve got to get away. I just can’t
handle it. Eugene’s fear is intense.
“Well, when you feel
you’re able, you can leave the hospital,” the doctor said, angry that Eugene is
seeking the path of least resistance.
Eugene Robinson ponders
all that has occurred to him. At times
he is seized by astonishment, hardly able to believe it to be him that is going
through this strange situation. For
him, this is the stuff of dreams. And
yet if it all seems like a dream, then why is it happening now, why is it so
real and yet at times seems surreal, nightmarish, he asks himself? And he realize that he has to learn how to
train himself and these amazing powers that was given to him from the stars,
train his thoughts, and try hard to be careful what he thinks, except in those
rare moments when he needs to become someone or something in order to do some
good. Since he knows now that thinking
is what triggers those powers, utmost care must be taken, in order to ensure that
a transformation doesn’t take place prematurely. He will also need a disguise, a costume of some sort, in order to
safeguard his true identity. No one
must ever know that Eugene Robinson is really the amazing Chameloman. But for the moment, he must deal with a
situation he has hardly asked for, deal with the awful truth at what he has
become, and yes, deal with the fact that he will be called upon to become more
than a mere man. He thinks about all of
this as he looks out of a window in his room at St. Luke’s Roosevelt
Hospital. A vacation will do me a world
of good, he thought to himself. He
wants to put what has happened to him far behind him for now.
After Eugene’s weeklong
stay at the hospital, he decides that now is as good a time as any to take his
vacation. But he will have to request
it from his employer.
He arrives at his
assignment site PS 252 in Manhattan, to the office of the principal.
Once in principal Lawrence
Boswick’s office, Eugene is asked by him to have a seat and he does so. After talking on the phone for a moment,
Boswick covers the phone with his hand, and tells Eugene that he will be right
with him. He is on the phone for
another minute or so and then hangs the phone up.
Mr. Robinson, what can I
do for you?” asked Mr. Boswick.
“Well Mr. Boswick, I’m
sure you know that I was in an automobile accident and had to be
hospitalized. I was just released
today. What it amounts to Mr. Boswick
is that I need to take my vacation now.
I know that I put in a vacation request for July, but I need it right
now. Is that possible?” inquired
Eugene.
“Well, I don’t mind. But you remember that Mrs. Harriet Fensworth
has scheduled June for her vacation, the whole month. Now, if you can get her to agree to switch with you, I’ll approve
it OK?” Boswick questioned Eugene.
“OK sir, that’s fair
enough. I’ll ask her right away,
thanks” answered Eugene.
Mrs. Fensworth’s class is
on the second floor, room 205. When Mr.
Robinson reached her classroom, he stood momentarily out side her room, looking
inside the classroom. After summoning
up his courage, he opened the door to see Mrs. Fensworth seated at a counter,
having a cup of coffee and a slice of date bread.
“Can I help you, Mr.
Robinson?” asked Mrs. Fensworth, almost sheepishly.
“Come on now Harriet, you
don’t have to be as formal as all that.
You can call me Eugene,” answered Eugene, trying to be friendly.
“Ok Eugene, what can I do
you for?” said Fensworth, laughing at how she had phrased the question.
“Well I’m hoping you will
do me a favor. What I need to know is
if you’d switch your vacation time with me.
Harriet, I have to get away right away.
This thing that’s happened to me is really weighing heavy on me. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. If I don’t get away now, I’ll go out of my
mind. And this other thing that’s
happened to me, nobody but my doctor knows.
I don’t know just how long I can hold it all together,” Eugene
said.
“I know about the
accident. It was in all of the
newspapers. You’ve barely escaped by
the skin of your teeth. But Eugene,
what is this other thing you’re talking about?” Harriet said eyeing him suspiciously.
Harriet,
I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry I
brought it up. It’s the main reason
that I have to get away. Harriet,
you’ve got to help me. I don’t know what’s
real anymore. Please Harriet, for God’s
sake.” Eugene said, almost in
tears.
“Ok, Ok, I’ll do it. It’s not like my vacation date is so
crucial. But I can see that yours is so
all right Eugene, go on and switch dates with me. I’ll tell Mr. Boswick I Okayed it and for Pete’s sake, get some
rest,” advised Harriet.
“Harriet thank you, you’re
a life saver,” said Eugene, with euphoria.
“Don’t mention it,
Eugene,” Harriet said, relieved to see that his demeanor had changed for the
better.
Eugene Robinson switched
his days with Mrs. Fensworth and Mr. Boswick approved him for early
vacation. After his Jeep was repaired,
Eugene decides to go south for his vacation, to visit some of his relatives. After packing his luggage, he enters his
Jeep and heads for interstate 95 going south.
There’s something almost magical about traveling at night in the
south. You hear all kinds of
sounds. The sounds of cricket and other
insect and animal noises come alive as you’re driving along the highway at
night. Anyone whose ever driven in the
country will tell you that it is not uncommon to notice your windshield being
hit by an insect. It used to annoy me
at first, to have just cleaned my car only to have it soiled by the carcass of
an insect. But as time goes on, I begin
to take it all in stride, and not allow my self to be nearly as irritated. Instead, I look at it now, as praise to God
and the wonderful power of nature. When
I speak of nature, I’m talking the way that God in his wisdom has created all of
the myriad forms of insect and animal life alike. I hold the same fascination whenever I look at trees and the
various types that exist in nature. I
look at their shapes, some filled with fruit, another great gift from
nature. Some no doubt, contain everything
we human beings ever need for medicine to heal the body with. A virtual gold
mine of wealth and nutrition. I now
know what Joyce Kilmer meant. The
houses I pass on the highway are just lovely to look at. And it is not very long before I start to
imagine what it would be like to own one.
But enough of such foolish fantasizing, I’m only 25 years old. What would I do with a house now at my age? Like a person, it requires the utmost
care. But I guess there’s no harm in
thing, is there? Still, I am mesmerized
at the sight of a beautiful house and I start to daydream every time I pass
one.
All of this thinking has
made me hungry. I think I’ll stop at
the next rest area and grab a bite to eat.
A half hour later, I see a sign, which reads, Bob’s Big Boy. I decided I’ll try their food and I’ll just
have ten more miles to go, he thought.
The meal was delicious and would hold him until he get to Aunt
Rita’s house. He paid for his meal,
walked out of the diner and toward his Jeep.
He was glad to be on the road again, with only a few more miles to reach
Raleigh.
When Eugene reached
Raleigh, it was ten O’clock and he was tired from all the driving. He arrived at the home of his Aunt Rita
Neville, who was so glad to see him.
“Are you all right boy? We heard
about your accident, but you sure look good now I tell you,” she said, holding
onto both of Eugene’s arms. Do you want
something to eat, boy?” She asked, with
all of the charm and southern hospitality that is so characteristic of the
south.
“Yes ma’am, I could use a
bite to eat, thank you,“ he replied, not daring to tell her he had already
eaten, knowing that it might offend her.
“Well, we have barbecue,
coleslaw, hush puppies and for dessert, peach cobbler,” she said.
“Wow, that sounds
great. I know I’m at home now,” he
said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You better believe it
child. How long you down here for boy?”
Rita asked, hoping it was for more than a day or two.
Eugene looked around
Rita’s house, eyeing every inch, every detail of his aunt’s home. It was a place his mom and he used to visit
long ago. Though a child at the time,
he could still recall vividly the good times he’d had. Those were his fondest memories of his sweet
mother, now deceased. Eugene had to
shake off the sadness, which had started to overwhelm him. He was with his
favorite aunt, aunt Rita. There was no
time for sadness, no time for reliving bad experiences, and no time for
conjuring up old hurtful memories.
“Oh, for about ten days or
so. I figure New York can do without me for that long,” Eugene said, seeing his
aunt flashing a big smile.
Eugene was enjoying his
stay at aunt Rita’s house. She took him
around to see most of his relatives. He
got a chance to take in some of the sights, go fishing and he even went to
church on Sunday. The warm welcome he
had received from his relatives made him forget all about what had happened to
him. His vacation provided him the
means to breathe fresh country air, eat good home cooked meals, and see his
relatives, many for the first time and to have a place to stay. Yet he knew that it would have to end
eventually. But for the moment, he was
on cloud nine, flying high in the sky and on top of the world.
It’s funny how fast time
seems to go by. Before you know it,
it’s time to say goodbye.
“I hate to see you go
boy. You’re all I have left of my
sister,” Rita said, her voice beginning to break, as tears filled her
eyes.
“Oh please now, don’t make
it any harder for me than it is. I’ll
be back to see you, the first chance I get, okay?”
“It’s not supposed to be
easy boy. But if you say you‘ll be
back, I believe you,” she said, wiping the tears away.
“Well, I’m all
packed. Goodbye,” Eugene said, giving
his aunt a great big hug and kiss. For
a brief moment he stands still looking at his aunt, feeling sorry for her that
she's all-alone her husband having died five years ago. Realizing he must now depart, he blows a
kiss to his aunt, walks out the door and heads for his jeep with suitcases and
bags full of food Rita gave him to eat while on the road.
It's eight O’clock in the
evening and I am on my way back home to New York.
Those were the best ten
days I have ever spent vacationing. And
what better place to spend it than with Aunt Rita in lovely North Carolina, he
thought.
Eugene has been driving
for hours and decides that it would be a good time to give his Jeep a break to
cool the engine off. The next rest area
is one mile and a half away. I’ll stop there in Maryland, he thought.
Arriving at the rest area,
Eugene decides to use the restroom before returning to his Jeep, which is
parked just outside a diner. Entering
the restroom, Eugene sees two men armed with guns standing over a young man
lying on the restroom floor. He has been shot twice in the head. Eugene was in an instant panic. He turned quickly around and ran out of the
men’s room. As he ran, he looked to see
if there was anyone resembling a police officer. Finding none, he felt completely isolated. The four men, who were every bit as
frightened upon being seen ran behind Eugene.
They could leave no loose end; no witness could be able to point a
finger at them. They had to get him at
all costs. Eugene fled to his Jeep,
turned the ignition, and raced out the rest area toward the interstate highway.
Driving along the
countryside, peeking into the rear view mirror, Eugene spots a bright light
coming from a car about a half-mile away.
Trying hard not to lose it altogether, he begins to think out loud. “My first vacation. All I wanted was some peace and quiet and
look what happens. Killers are
following me. I’m just a
schoolteacher. I’m not a threat to
anybody, just a lousy school teacher,” he said. He begins to pound his fist on the steering wheel of his Jeep in
frustration.
“Leave me alone. Leave.. me.. alone. Hey, this is crazy... crazy. Why did I have to stop at that particular
rest area, why? Hey, get a grip
man. I know. I’ll go to the
police. No, not a good idea, they would
expect me to do that. What can I do,
what can I do?” he said, looking nervously into the rear view mirror.
When you’re in trouble, a
society that you spent your entire life criticizing doesn’t seem nearly as
bad. All of its faults now become virtues,
only when you’re in trouble. And the
words you used such as; there’s never a cop around when you need one begin to
take on new meaning, when you’re in need of protection. Policemen who were previously the object of
your scorn and ridicule are suddenly heralded as saviors. I’ve learned in my short life that you can
afford to be objective, as long as someone else is concerned, but you cannot be
when it concerns you. So now I draw
near to a society that comedians poke fun at.
I inch my way toward what I now regard as my shelter from the four men
that’s trailing me from behind. New
York City, a place that’s talked about and sung about is where I am headed and
I mean quick.
All sorts of things pop
into your mind when you’re faced with danger.
You even begin to imagine things you would previously have
dismissed. But Eugene Robinson cannot
dismiss the all too prevailing thought that he has witnessed an execution and
that the executioner knows what he looks like and is out to get him. He needs a miracle now. Nothing short of a miracle would save him
now. He begins to think of how his life
has been one filled with close calls.
Trouble has been like a plague to him.
You fight to end one plague, only to be visited with another. Yes, such has been the life of this
man. One break is what he needs to
restore his faith in himself. One
little semblance of hope that he can hold his skinny fingers onto.
One little possibility that he can see with eyes worn
tired by fear and abject hopelessness.
Brown eyes that have seen nothing but misery. A man whose tall thin frame is but just another reminder to him
of all the hurt he has suffered. His
brown curly locks, if they could speak would tell stories. Stories of how a young boy seven years of
age who saw his mother abused by a huge father who drank incessantly. A father who took his failures out on a
small thin framed but sweet brown haired soft-spoken woman.
At age nine,
