MONDAY DIARY CHAPTER 8

Sometimes a story is just a story and there is no great revelatory moment contained within its prose. And even if there is it should be ignored for it would ruin the pure entertainment of the story. And with that I share with you this little occurrence from the previous week.

Remember I told you about the brothers, the one of whom donated a kidney to the other? Well last Saturday I thought to take the jaunt to the Cleveland Clinic to check up on the boys and see how they were fairing with their modifications in their inner plumbing. The surgeons and their bodies worked hard at making sure all wounds were healing ahead of schedule and so the visit was purely social in nature. Thanks be to God.

After pulling into the parking garage the steps were taken down to the tunnel that allows people to shuffle freely between buildings without having to contend with a busy street, the crossing of which might provide the hospital with more work then they probably needed. The landing in the tunnel is across from the elevator and there was muted shouting coming from behind the stainless steel doors which became full scale surround sound screaming and laughter as the doors slid open and allowed a just-beyond-toddler to escape its confines. He shot out like a bullet and started running in circles, his little shoe clad feet slapping the terrazzo as he ran – slap! slap! slap! screaming and laughing.

Hasty tracks were made by me down the tunnel. Now, there is something you need to know about this tunnel. All along to your right from floor to ceiling and end to end there is a milky glass wall with lights behind them that slowly turns the wall different colors of the rainbow as you walk along. So I’m walking along and I hear behind me the slapping of the child’s feet and his voice ringing out at full throttle, “Blue! Blue! Blue!” slap! slap! slap!

Closer he came. “Poyple! Poyple! Poyple!” slap! slap! slap! Soon he will be on my heals. “Red! Red!” Smack! Then there is nothing. Only silence. Then I hear a rather drone and defeated male voice calmly ask, “Jasper, are you Okay?” I turned around and saw a rather substantial bench and on the opposite side a dazed and confused boy splayed out on the floor. The look of betrayal and shock on his face was near cartoonish. Then there was the look of serious consideration as he took inventory of his damage. I think he was not hurt but this was far too shocking a moment not to respond and the tornado siren started blowing beginning nice as soft and building to “Take Cover!” mode.

I occurs to me in writing this might seem a bit sad. What’s so funny about a kid running into a bench? But at the time it provided me and a younf man with a new kidney a good half hour of laughs.