44. Here

I do not like outdoor fix ups after the first frost.  It’s damned cold out there and my arthritis is bound to flare up, as I told Kickstart.  He wasn’t listening.  He worked in a light jacket while I bundled up in a ratty old down coat and looked like a poorly dressed bum.  I'm not supposed to worry about what I look like, but my mother would be terribly embarrassed to see me.

The porch has a noticeable sag and we’ve been trying to shore it up and keep it attached to the front wall of the Chapter House.  Too bad the sag wasn’t noticeable this past summer when it would have been more pleasant to do the work.

" I haven’t seen Agnes since breakfast,” I said to Kickstart.

“I think he’s writing a letter to the Mothership,” Kick replied.  “I don’t think those old guys in Ireland want us anymore,” he added.

“They’re not that old,” I said.  “They’re my age.”

“Uh huh,” said Kick.

“You do know they supplement our finances here each year,” I told him.  “And I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re getting tired of it.”

“Or can’t afford it,” said Kick.

We’ve got to find some money for lumber or we will  certainly lose this porch.  Then the occasional visitor will have to climb a step ladder to come in our front door.

“Jesse, I think we’re doomed,” said Kick.

“You mean like we’re going to be hit by a Protestant comet?”  I asked.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“I do know what you mean, but I have no answer.”

“What will we do if we have to leave?” said Kick.

“I don’t know.  Pack, I guess.”

“We can’t bring all of the manuscripts and stuff.  Do you know how many documents we have now?  The complete second floor, almost.”

“Kick,” I said as kindly as possible, “our work is done as soon as we finish each secretarial task for the scholars and ship it off to them.  All those copies on the second floor are duplicated, I’m sure, in the university halls of our clients.”

“Where are you going to live, Jesse?” asked the young monk as if he hadn’t heard me.

“Maybe I’ll apply for assistance or maybe I’ll get a job in a store,” I said, “and get a room down in the village … I don’t’ know.  After all, I don’t have far to go.  You have an entire life ahead of you, Kick.”

“My life is here on this mountain.  I’m staying.”

“Well, you can’t … “

“In the woods,” says Kickstart.  “I’ll stay in the woods.”

“A real Desert Father, huh?”  I sneered.

“Jesse,” said Kickstart, “everything I learned about my life and myself and God is here on this mountain.”

“But not God,”  I said, "he's everywhere."

“What I know of him is here,”  said Kick.

I think Kick is right.  Since we can really have no true conception of God, our perception is important because it's all we have.


 
Steve Winwood with Clapton at Crossroads.
Can't Find My Way Home