Not All Who Are Lost Will Wander

Chapter 12 of "Half-Blind"

Gulfstream Beach, FL ~ 1993

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost… -J.R.R. Tolkien

The night after his bad eye went bad again, he called Kate’s house. No one picked up the phone so he left a message: “Hey Kate, its Jim. I, uh, decided to quit Kmart. I’m having a hard time keeping up with school work and all, plus I miss fishing with my dad on Saturdays. So, see you around, I guess. Call me.”

An hour later the phone rang and James picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey Jim, its Kate. What the heck do you mean leaving me all alone at Kmart? No more Slim Jim and Katie Did? I don’t get it. I thought school was going fine for you.”

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I haven’t felt myself since the surgery. And its not like Big Joe lets us have the same shift much anyway,” James said.

“I thought the surgery went fine, at least after the first couple days,” Kate said.

“That’s the thing. It, uh...” his voice cracked and tears started to flow. “It didn’t really go fine.”

“What do you mean?” Kate sounded worried.

“My bad eye has gone back to where it always was. Its wandering again. I think the surgery failed,” James said.

“Failed? It was looking good last week. That doesn’t make any sense,” Kate said.

“Well I guess I’m in the 10 percent of the eye surgeries that fail, even though I was supposed to be ‘straightforward.’ I guess I’ll never be straightforward. All that pain and misery for nothing.”

“Oh, Jim, I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it all better.”

“Thanks, Kate. I’m sorry I missed prom for nothing,” Jim said.

“It wasn’t for nothing. You needed to try this, even if it didn’t work.”

“Yeah.”

“And you know what? I still stand by what I said at first: screw that stupid bad eye. Its never done a thing for you, and now look what its done, the stubborn idiot,” Kate said.

“Hey now, that’s kinda me you’re talking about.” James smiled a little.

“No. That’s not how it works, Jim. You are way more than a bad eye. Way, way more.” Kate was talking fast now. “You can’t let this one small thing dominate your life. I mean, it’s a freaking ping-pong ball swimming around your head, doing its own thing, completely ignoring you. Screw it.” She emitted a high-pitched laugh. “And you know what?” She took a serious tone again. “You can see way better than most people, and that’s saying something, even if you suck at basketball.” She laughed again.

“Well, geez, thanks. You know how to make a guy feel better.” James laughed with her. “But yeah, I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “The hard part is its always in front of me. There’s never not a day I don’t think about it, so I can’t just say ‘screw it’ and move on.”

“Why not?” Kate said. “Why not wake up, look at that lazy ass eye, and say, ‘Screw you today too.’ Why not say ‘You don’t give a crap about me, so I’m going to do today without you. I don’t care what everybody else thinks. You want to wander? Go ahead and wander. Get lost.’”

“Yeah, maybe so. Seems kinda weird though.”

“So what if its weird? Normal sucks, Jim. You’re way more than normal. Plus your good eye works pretty good, right? At least I noticed it looking down my dress the other day.” She giggled.

James turned red, grateful, for once, to be on the phone. He had no idea what to say.

After an eternal pause, Kate said, “Anyway. I hope you don’t quit Kmart. Or if you do, we need to hang out more. You want to go to the movies together this weekend? I heard Benny & Joon was pretty good.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Jim paused. “Hey Kate…?”

“Yeah?”

“I...uh...I’m…”

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say… I…” He faltered. Then he realized he needed to say it in person.

“Yeah?”

“Um... thanks.” Another pause. “I just wanted to say thanks. For everything.” James sighed.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure, Jim.” Kate sighed too. “You know what?”

“Yeah?” James said.

“Me too,” she said. “You know?”

“Yeah. Good. Thanks.”

“See you later, Jim.”

“Goodnight, Kate.” As he put down the phone he noticed his hand shaking. He smiled to himself as he turned and stared at his fishtank for a while.

~~~

A couple days later he pulled into the parking lot at the Huxley Center for the first time in a while. “Oh, crap,” he said to himself. “I forgot all about Mr. Schwartz’s special order. Edward is going to have to wait a bit.” He pulled out of the parking lot and drove to the Kmart, Smells Like Teen Spirit blaring from his cheap speakers.

“Slim Jim! What are you doing here?” Joe said. “Your shift doesn’t start until 5, plus I don’t see your tie on.”

“Oh I forgot I needed to deliver a special order for a customer. Fancy pen refills for the lawyer that works at the Huxley Center where I volunteer. I forgot all about them with my surgery and all. I’m just picking them up.”

“Oh, OK. Should be up front. See you later, then,” Joe said.

James went to retrieve the special order, when suddenly he was wrapped up from behind. “Jim!” Kate had him in a tight embrace, laughing.

“Hey Kate, good to see you.” He turned around but looked down, turning his head so she wouldn’t see his bad eye. “I, uh, just came to pick up those pen refills for Mr. Schwartz real quick. Edward’s probably waiting for me. Gotta go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her and searched his face. “Hey, you still want to go to the movies? It’s playing tomorrow night at 7. Pick me up, OK?”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” James said, refusing to make eye contact, even as he enjoyed the warmth and softness of her hand. “Hey, I think I hear Big Joe in the next aisle, so I should go before he freaks out on us again.” He reached in his pocket and found a few warm Starburst, and handed them to her with a crooked smile. “See you later.”

“OK, thanks Jim, I guess.” She turned and walked away.

James pulled into the Huxley Center again and found Clara at the front desk. “Hi, Clara, is Mr. Schwartz around?”

“Well, hello, Jim. Good to see you. Its been a while. How did your surgery go?”

“Not too good, unfortunately, but I’m OK now,” James said.

“Oh, OK. Glad to know you’re doing well. As for Brian, he’s away at the Huxley Center’s international headquarters in Switzerland, of all places,” Clara said.

“Oh, wow!”

“Yes, the poor guy has to go there once a year, at least. Maybe someday I’ll get to go there too. Is there something I can help you with?”

Jim placed the box of pen refills on her desk. “He had a special order for pen refills from Kmart, where I work, and asked me to bring it here. Unfortunately I forgot for a while, so I hope he isn’t mad.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. He does love his fancy pens though. I’ll let him know when he returns,” Clara said.

“Is Edward around? I’m running late today.”

“I imagine he’s in the library, as usual. Or maybe the courtyard, since its a nice day out,” Clara said.

“OK, thanks, Clara. I’ll go find him.”

He made his way to the library, which was dark and empty, although he saw quite a few Edwardian books on the table. He went down the hall and found the door for the courtyard. When he went outside, a wall of humidity blasted him, and the change from the cold air conditioned building to the warm, sunny outdoors gave him the chills. He saw Edward sitting on a bench, apparently dozing.

“Hi, Edward, how are you today?”

Edward roused from his stillness. “Oh, James, good of you to come. I was worried you wouldn’t be joining us today again. All is well, I trust? How was your surgery?”

“Yeah, sorry I was late. I had to do something for Mr. Schwartz today,” James said.

“Oh?” Edward’s blind eyes narrowed. “But I understand he’s out of the country.”

“Yes, just some office supplies from Kmart he ordered.”

“I see. Tell me, have you interacted much with Brian?”

“A little at Kmart, why?” James said.

“Well, he and I have a long, complicated history. His story is quite tragic, although it isn’t mine to tell. I will tell you, however, since he announced it in the Huxley Center monthly newsletter, that after a lifetime of strabismus, he is opting for corrective surgery, with the top eye surgeon in the world. In Switzerland, no less.”

“Wait, you mean he’s having surgery on his wandering eye, just like I did?”

“Precisely,” Edward said.

“That’s weird,” James said. He thought of the first time he saw Schwartz in Kmart in his green shirt, and how that ultimately changed so much in his life.

“I myself find the timing peculiar, but I wish him all the best,” Edward said. “Speaking of, how did your surgery go? Are you fully recovered? I’ve missed sitting with you, my young friend.”

“Oh, it went OK. At least at first. Well not at first at first, but then it was fine. And then it wasn’t,” James said.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t follow all your circumlocutions there. What happened?”

James retold the story of his surgery and its ultimate aftermath, concluding: “So it didn’t work. Back to the way I’ve always been, I guess.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry, James.”

“Thanks, me too.” He looked into Edward’s blind eyes and was sure the old man was looking right at him, or perhaps right through him.

“Would you like to read another one of my favorites this time?” Edward asked.

“Sure, but I didn’t bring any books with me. Should I go find something in the library?”

“No need.” Edward produced a small Bible from his back pocket and handed it to James. “The gospel according to John, chapter 9, please.”

James found the place and began reading aloud.

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth.

James looked up and said, “Seriously? Another one?”

Edward smiled. “Indeed. Jesus healed quite a few blind people in his earthly ministry. One could argue it was his signature move, so to speak. Continue please. Through verse 7.”

His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.

Once more Edward quietly intoned: “The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.”

Raising his head, Edward asked, “What is your impression of the disciples in this story?”

James looked down at the passage. “They’re pretty stupid.”

Edward laughed. “Yes indeed! I appreciate your candor. Most folks are overawed by their stature to realize the disciples are indeed often foolish, especially before Christ’s resurrection, and especially before the arrival of the Holy Spirit. But you could argue they’re the ones we’re supposed to identify with the most.”

Now James laughed. “Are you calling me stupid?”

Edward spread his arms wide. “I would never say such a thing! Did I say that? But you may have said it.” They laughed together in the warm sun.

“But as usual,” Edward said, “Jesus gently sets them straight. Read again his response, please.”

James found the spot: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

James stopped, and looked up at the palm branches fluttering in the warm breeze. “Huh,” he grunted.

“Yes? Have you stumbled on an insight?” Edward asked. “It often comes out of the blue, so to speak.”

“Well I was just thinking about the last time we talked, before my surgery, and you said God would heal my wandering eye, or at least make it look better, with the surgery,” James said.

“Did I say that?” Edward asked. “That doesn’t quite sound like something I would say, at least not exactly. I seem to recall you saying something to that effect, however.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” James said.

Edward shifted on the bench to face James more directly. “There is often a large chasm between what God could do, and what God would do. I am tempted to add ‘unfortunately,’ but I’m not sure that would be appropriate, since God clearly knows better than I do. But this chasm, so to speak, seems wider than the Grand Canyon, and deeper than the Mariana Trench, from a human perspective. But for God, it is no bigger than the cracks that are undoubtedly in this sidewalk at my feet, which I’m sure are daily traversed by untold numbers of ants.”

James stopped to take it all in, grasping at the threads. “So its the same old question,” James slowly said. “Why doesn’t God heal you?”

Edward said, “And now that you have experienced something of a trial of your own, a taste of the heartbreak of this broken world, you might phrase it a different way, yes?”

James thought it over. “Yeah, I guess I could say: why didn’t God heal me?”

They sat together in silence, listening to a blue jay calling across the courtyard.

“James, could you please re-read for us the second half of verse 3?”

“...but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

“Oh.” A mockingbird chased after the blue jay, and they both flew away squawking.

“James, my young friend, you’ve lived a lot more than most your age, especially in the last weeks. I would never minimize your pain and suffering, but rather just the opposite. There is a reason God didn’t heal you. There is an answer to ‘why?’”

“OK then, what is it?” James was half-hopeful, half-defiant.

“I don’t know.” Edward said. James’s shoulders sagged. “Or at least I don’t know the specifics,” Edward continued. “I do know the bigger picture, however, and it is just as true for me as it is for you: so that the works of God might be displayed in us. What exactly that looks like is up to you to find out. Therein lies the adventure, my good man.” Edward slapped him on the shoulder.

“Most days it just seems like I’m wandering around, kinda like this bad eye,” James said.

“It does indeed, but I’ve found that God is a master storyteller.” Edward rose to his feet and began to pace a bit. “An artist of the highest order. A weaver of the most stunning tapestries, which look chaotic in the back, but turn them around when its all said and done, and you have a creation fit for a king. Which, truly, you are becoming.”

“Really?” James desperately wanted to believe it. As he looked up at the old man, he saw the rays of the sinking sun framing Edward’s head, as a mockingbird rattled off three different tunes in succession.

“Really. Now come on, I smell chocolate chip cookies baking. Let’s go get a few before you have to go.”