Heroes Are Hard To Find
Wednesday is about books. And writing. Here’s a ‘book’ story about finding a hero.
It’s always hard naming heroes, you try to include them all, you think about the obvious ones like Bob Dylan and Brian Wilson and then, you know, a few less obvious ones – Janet Malcolm for instance. Does anyone name her? (More writers should). But naming heroes, plural, implies a list. And a list implies a hierarchy, a ranking system, an order. Even if you say you’re just naming names, the order in which you recall them implies the rank.
I prefer now to say that I have one hero. And I don’t even know her name.
Some visitors to the family home were leaving in their rental car, well, trying to. You see the damn thing broke down, just like that. And though the driver tried to cosplay being a bluecollar guy, it was clear he wasn’t. He simply didn’t have a clue. Not that I was able to help. I was just standing there watching. If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have found my new hero.
You see, his wife did the most extraordinary thing that day. While other humans buzzed about like bees, all hiving to help, the woman in the car stayed put, stayed calm and took out a rather large novel and simply began reading. She couldn’t help. She knew it. She was stuck there, suddenly with downtime.
Not for her to try and pretend to help, no. Not for her to get back out of the car and re-engage with pointless small talk. She’d done that earlier. No. No way. What she hadn’t done, hadn’t been able to do, that is, was get stuck back in to this good book. But now she could. And what luck.
She didn’t even remove her seatbelt. Just sat pinned, reading. The book had been in the glove compartment, for just such an occasion. And finally!
When you are meeting someone for the first time, it’s best you don’t just take out a book and start reading. It’s considered quite rude you see. When you’re driving, you obviously cannot read. And it’s actually not a good idea to read when sitting in the passenger seat if the vehicle is moving. You might get motion sickness. But in a driveway, with no other transport options and time to kill…? Reading is an absolute bonus in this situation. So, thank Dawkins for the book in the glovebox.
This person had found the perfect window. And she was keeping it rolled up tight. Hellos had been done, goodbyes had been said and now it was time to read. At least until the wheels got rolling again.
I wouldn’t say I’m praying for breakdowns ever, but forever after that I most certainly take a book with me anywhere I go.
