“I say
we take
the stool away
and be done with it,”
I said.
“No,” said my friend
who tends to vote liberal.
“Let’s wait a little.
He may get out of this yet.”
“We have
been
waiting, and he’s
still
dancing,” I said.
We continued
to watch the man
tap-dancing
on stage.
The waitress
came by
with the round
of drinks.
We took
our
drinks.
We
sipped
at
them.
“All I’m saying is,” I tried
again after awhile. “Is that
I think it’s going to happen
anyway. Might as well do it
and be done.”
“You need to look more
at the future,”
said my liberal friend.
“I keep looking at the future,
and I see that we still
need him.”
“I keep looking at the present
and I see that we should end
his suffering.” I replied.
“I keep looking at the past,”
piped up
our other friend,
the one who votes NDP.
“And all I see
is a tangled ball of
twine that we shouldn’t
get too tangled
up in.”
“Ha.” I replied. “Not a bad thing,
bud. It’s good that someone
doesn’t get too amped up over
these things.”
By now
the
pub had
really drawn
a
crowd.
The dancing man
was drawing the
crowd.
He continued to
tap-dance up on the stool.
His toes seemed to barely
touch the wooden
thing.
Every now and then
the rope around
his neck
would catch the light
and I would follow the rope
up with my eyes, up
to the rafters
not far above him.
The growing
crowd was making
me ansy.
The colour and the
bloating of the dancer’s face
was making me
queasy.
“Look,” I said after
some silence. “Are you sure
we shouldn’t take the stool
out from him? It’s looks
like we’d be doing him a favor
and also, I want to be home
already.”
“Here here,” said
the new democrat.
“No,” said the liberal, “He’s the
performer and we’re the spectators.
To interfere with him might ruin
his best act. And also, there’s a
sacred trust between the spectator
and the performer. To violate that
trust would make us look bad in front
of all these people who just showed
up and don’t know what’s
been going on.”
“I don’t know what’s
been going on and I’ve been
here the whole time,” said
the new democrat.
“Same,” I said. “And who cares
about what these other people think?
I say we go up there, we do what
needs to be done and then
we can go home.”
“I say we practice more
of what you preach and show
some patience. Plus in the
meantime, we can prepare
for the future a bit more.”
“And I say we drink our beer
instead of ruining yet another night
getting shitty over something that
will happen one way or
another anyway.”
“Bah,” I said
to them both.
“We can still do
what you both
want, only let’s
go over and
remove that
stool first.”
“But removing that stool
will have
consequences!” said the liberal.
“You say we’ll just carry on if
we remove the stool first. But if
we remove the stool first, the crowd
might turn on us! If we were
to wait a little longer instead,
we can still prepare and
we can still drink and then
we can remove the stool, if
we have to, before going home. See,
with my way the crowd doesn’t
turn, and we get to watch
and learn. See? With my way
everybody wins.”
“Everybody?” I said, following
the dancer’s rope with my eyes.
“More drinks?”
asked the
waitress.
“Yes please,”
said the
liberal.
“It’ll be the last round
for me, thanks,” I said.
“I want to be home
already.”
“I’m taking another piss,”
said the new democrat,
starting to stand up.
A Friday night.
The Compendium 