Telephone Pole Blues
ankle.” She wrapped her robe closed as she moved toward the bathroom. “A wheel spoke puncture wound with bruises and thirty-five stitches. I’ll go with you to pick him up.”
twelve thirty, twelve forty-five.” ... Yes, thank you.” Myrtle hung up. Cliff wedged a pillow behind the small of his back as he sat up leaning against the headboard. “Let me guess. That was either the police, or the hospital.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but then continued before his wife could respond, “or an angry neighbor, or one of Billy’s friends. Well, am I right?” “You pretty much covered the waterfront. Yes, it was…” “No wait. Don’t tell me. Let me guess. The police.” “Jamison Hospital,” she said. “Good Lord,” he moaned. “Another motorcycle accident. Has to be.” He tried to read the expression on his wife’s face. “What happened? Let me have it.” “I don’t know Cliff.” She swung into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, “All they said was Billy was in a motorcycle accident, but he’s okay now. They set his broken wrist in a cast and then there was something about a puncture wound in his
On four different occasions, Billy James was first at the scene of a spectacular motorcycle accident ~ his own. His father, my grandfather, at one point became so frustrated that he threatened to buy his son an airplane. “No more half-assed crashes with all this property damage and medical bills,” he shouted. “We’re going to do this right once and for all. We’re going to end this expensive pattern of yours with one final airplane wreck ~ a big smoking hole in the ground and that’s it ~ over and out.” “Oh, Cliff, Myrtle pleaded, “For Pete’s sake, stop talking like that. “I can’t take much more of this, Myrtle.” And he couldn’t. My grandfather, Cliff James, the man after whom I’m named, tragically and unexpectedly died not long after this at the age of 42. But that’s another tale for another time. Cliff James and his wife have been Easton residents since September 2009. Af ter winding down hi s bu siness career out west, they decided to return to familial roots in the Mid-Atlantic area and to finally get serious about their twin passions: writing and art.
Published on Jun 30, 2015