Encountering the Monster, the Sequel

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A lasso rests around my neck. I have survived this scenario before, but that was before. I remain motionless. I am taunted towards action but I know all action will result in death.

I am puzzled that I don't think of my wife and child or see my life flashing before my eyes. I think about a Cabo fourth floor training center vantage point where I see a wall separating a sandy pasture from a walkway to the Pacific beach. On the far side of the wall a colt or perhaps a filly is prancing, is turning while jumping, is joyous. Five mature horses are tied to individual wood poles but their calm eyes follow the offspring of one or more of the set. The mature horses are free because the colt is untethered in play. The unhitched colt is lovingly held captive because no world exists outside their watchful gazes.

On the near side of the wall is a boy riding a Big Wheel. The brick wall is at least eight feet high and the boy and the colt don't exist for each other. The walkway echoes the plastic on pavement roar of the toy as a young mother tries to keep pace. She is distressed because her son, her joy, her gift to the world is anger incarnate. Steering with one hand, the boy points accusingly with the other arm, shouting, "You are an Asshole. And You are an Asshole.  And You're an Asshole."  With each new verbal volley the boy swings his pointed finger to assault a new victim. Although I am perched four flights above, I am the seventh so condemned by this pint-sized judge.

What strikes me is the absolute juxtaposition of joy and unease side by side. I think of millions of years ago when cells came together to form creatures why some thought it best to duplicate horses and others thought it better than best to be human. Now there are so many more humans than horses, a choice certainly not consciously made. This boy, this colt generate answers to questions I have never sought about tending the garden and which are flowers and which are weeds.

Again, I chastise myself for not making my family the center of my thoughts in this time of crisis.

Then I realize what a blessing this random memory, this chance vision is to my survival. Bravery by distraction has forced the Monster to make the first move. It is not until The Monster intends to speak that I remember the lasso resting around my neck.

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