Note: this is the 2nd and final installment of the Kandy Karma saga. If you haven’t already, please read Part 1 first.
Previously, on the Point of the Story: the sun seemed to be shining on the dog’s ass, so to speak…
Part II
And the sun did indeed shine that fateful brisk day in 1990. It was November 2nd–a Friday–and my class had a field trip planned for that day. After a few frames at the local bowling alley, we headed to the nearby park for playing and lunch.
This being only 2 days after scoring a massive amount of kiddy blow, I still had ample supply in my grocery bag. And I did what any 9-year-old successful criminal would have done.
I got cocky.
I’m not sure if it was out of generosity, bragging, or an attempt to buy friends, but I brought my whole cache of treats along for the ride.
Once we got to the park, we left all of our lunches at a covered picnic table and went off and played for an hour or so.
When I came back, I couldn’t locate the grocery bag. I had just misplaced it…right?
It quickly turned into one of those scenes from America’s Most Wanted or Unsolved Mysteries where they recreate the moment that a careless parent becomes increasingly frantic trying to find the kid they lost in the park.1Spoiler alert: they were abducted and murdered. Every last one of them. It was the 80s.
I turned that place upside down looking for it.
I interrogated all my classmates, trying to find the smallest clue as to the bag’s fate.
I begged for my teachers to do anything they could.
But it was all in vain. The body–er, I mean “bag”– was never recovered.
Even to this day, it feels like a pair of knives stabbing me in the heart and the gut simultaneously when I recall that moment. I was heart broken–and apparently scarred for life.
I will never regret flouting all authority that my mother and the church held over me in order to get all the candies.
But I sure as ----- regret taking all those candies with me on that ----- field trip…
WHY, GOD? WHY!?
Oh. Right…
Touché, Lord & Savior. Touché.
Part III
For the last several years, I have had the great joy of living only a few blocks from my mom. I would argue the best part of this arrangement is going for lovely evening walks with her and my elder daughter, especially in the Fall.
A year or so ago during one of these walks, the Elder had asked me to tell her tales from my childhood. As it was nearing Halloween, I decided to tell her the tragic tale of how a pair of ingenious young lads overcame all odds just to have a normal Halloween, but in the end to only have their hopes dashed against the rocks just like they did to babies back in the Bible times. I.e. I told her this story.
As I was telling it in the presence of Mom, all the pieces of the puzzle came together in my head, albeit 25 years expo facto.
Me: “YOU! It was you, wasn’t it!”
Mom: “Huh?”
Me: “You found the candy in my nightstand and decided to teach me a lesson, didn’t you?”
Mom: “Uh…”
Me: “Where were you around 11:30 a.m. on Friday, November 2nd, 1990?!? You were in college, so it would have been easy to sneak over to the park in between classes and slip off with my candy.”
Mom: “No…”
Me: “It’s Vanilla Ice and M.C. Hammer all over again! You had a habit of slyly taking the things that brought us boys joy and then pretend like they never existed. It matches your M.O. perfectly!”
Mom: “Well, actually…”
Me: “CASE CLOSED!!!”
Mom: “This is the first I’m hearing about any of this.”
Me: …
Me: “GOD DAMMIT. After all I’ve been through, can’t a boy at least have some closure?”
Karma is ----- real, I tell you. And that ----- never forgets.
Content created on: 23 October 2019 (Wednesday)
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