Olive Oil Sandwiches

He rode out of town one day
to visit woods or swamp
he parked his car, climbed the fence and walked to the hill
a tough, dense tower of twisted, interwoven tree/shrub/vine
a compact hummock of vegetation
an ax swung mightily against the tower bounced off
small scissors, closing gently, cut off a leaf
slowly, a tunnel is scissored through the tower
a building is encountered
rather, a wall of non-organic matter
simple, white, vine suckers clinging randomly
smooth, slippery, dirty white
find the door....is there a door?
look behind...is the tunnel closing?
the light is muted, mottled, blinding shafts of sun and deep shadow
and motionless, quiet
pushing a path between the wall and the vines
like peeling a path between ivy and brick
forward movement is possible
retreat in doubt
the leading hand touched an anomaly in the wall surface
invisible in the ambient twilight
feet slowed by a web of twigs
trying to catch up with hand
rumble of thunder outside
like a dozen miles away
darkness and cold prevail
a chill comes
his body responds with an audible groan
rivulets of water slide down the wall
flowing over his hands and the cheek which is pressed hard to the slippery white wall
welling over into his eye
he pushes into an opening
like threading a needle
a floor of earth, level and dark
dim walls fill the dark rising to meet a ceiling of more twisted foliage and star-like sky
in the center of the floor lay a slightly brighter darkness
three feet wide by twelve or fourteen feet long
a flowing length of something
he was in a tube three lengths high
the exterior cold changed perceptibly to an encompassing warmth
then a moist heat
his clothes filled with sluggish sweat
one by one he removed them until he leaned against the wall naked
he needed the wall’s support to remain upright
his knees wanted to fold
his discarded clothes, as if made of lead, sank into the earthen floor
on hands and knees he crawled toward the middle of the tube
the ground mushy and soft, like one large mushroom cap
toward the now clearly outlined brightness laying in the floor’s center
like a dog he sniffed at it
he brought his eyes close until he could no longer focus
it was as if the thing on the ground enveloped him
it was as if he fell into it headlong
like sinking into a tepid bath with no alarm of drowning
it wrapped itself around him, filled each pore with itself until it became a part of him
he rose to his feet without effort, like blinking an eye
he knew rather than felt that a space existed between the ground and
the balls of his feet
his perception was that he was a tiny fraction taller than earlier
he looked at the ceiling with interest and began to rise toward it
as he feared a collision was imminent, the plaited branches parted
and he was free
he came to rest in a field
looking around he recognized the fence a hundred yards away,
and the gate he climbed to get where he was
his car would be parked beyond the gate
nearing the fence he could see his car
but something looked wrong
leaning on the gate he saw his car sitting low to the ground
all four wheels gone
the trunk yawned open
a side glass was smashed and two doors splayed open
the vehicle was covered with a thick layer of road dust
keys were found in his hand
without registering emotion or feeling he threw the car keys through
the smashed window onto the front seat
he began walking naked the direction he had driven earlier
his expression was a mixture of perplexity and confusion
and thoughtful wonder
but not stress
two evenings later he walked into his small house
he showered, ate large quantities of bread, cheese, washed it down with wine
then went to bed as dusk was helplessly overwhelmed by night
he slept a normal night without dreams
and woke refreshed
no muscles were sore
he had floated home

he quit his job
the woman who sometimes telephoned him was nice
but he had to find the words to let her go
he was not the same person
who he was
he did not know
when the rain came it was unexpected
announced by a tremendous thunderclap
a wind lashed the rain against the panes
sounding like shotgun pellets
it occurred to him to go out
he walked out the back door to chain link fence
he did not feel the storm
no wind, no rain
he did not get wet and returned to the house dry and
thoughtful but not surprised
life was normal
by that he meant familiar and routine filled
he slept, ate, exercised, read, watched tv,
sat on the toilet reading
laughed and cried at rented movies
he was in all ways ordinary
except, upon close inspection, his skin had an odd texture
living in a medium sized city assisted his life style
on a moonless night
he went outside and stood relaxed and motionless near a wall
looking at the black sky
far above
the blinking lights of an airplane in the darkest part of the sky
moved left to right with a whispered roar
the attraction he felt towards that moving light was irresistible
he ascended to meet it
he felt neither cold nor wind resistance
but as he gained altitude breathing became difficult
returned
he sped tree top high along dark and unfamiliar streets
he hit a street light
it bent away from him
he passed without feeling anything
he flew through three branches, electrical wires, telephone poles
causing considerable destruction to these items
he wondered...what will happen if i fly through a house...
he decided the house would suffer damage
nightly he flew
he concealed his ability to fly
he observed crimes
he became a peeping tom
he crashed parties by flying over excluding walls
he flew up to viewing platforms of high buildings
after hours without paying
he sailed into clouds
feeling their damp
breathing their damp
he slalomed trees
and poles
and surprised children at play
avoiding mothers
several times flying in the vicinity of the tube he felt a tug to go there
but resisted
not a physical pull
but an influence
an urge, strong but resistible
should he share with the world...
were finding and escaping to become so easy...
friends, his friends
girl friend, parents
did they notice a difference in him...
a change...
he thought of confiding but feared it
to whom...
why...
to show off...
where would it lead...
he could reveal his secret and guide others to the tube
it’s a funny kind of secret, with only one knower
who owns the tube...
should he claim ownership...
charge admission to know its secret...
why would he do any of these things...
he, now, was unique
if everyone knew how it was done
he would merely be the first
but, is he the first...
but he had nothing special to give
he could fly
he didn’t know why
he had no other talents
he was not especially generous or altruistic
nor was he brave or open minded

however, he did enjoy being thought nice of
he liked to be pointed out and looked at admiringly
well, he would like it if it ever would happened
being a hero was just one step away
but he would also be just one of the crowd
like now