Thoughts on life from Pat Oaks
If you are like me, that was one of your favorite stories growing up. I can almost feel my Mother's arms around me in the old green rocker on the front porch, reading that story to me (or telling it...she knew it so well.) Of course, so did I, but I still wanted to hear her voice telling it! I always loved it when that mean old TROLL "got his!"
Last night, we were under the 640 by pass bridge in Knoxville, TN, as we are every Wednesday night, and I thought of that story. I thought of it all the way home, and was still thinking of it this morning.
There is a mean ole' TROLL underneath that bridge. He tries to lure people underneath the bridge so he can eat them. He has succeeded time after time. Last night was a perfect example.
It was the week before Thanksgiving so we had a special meal for everyone. Next week (the night before Thanksgiving) we will give out sack lunches. It was the end of the night, and all the tables had been stored in the large cargo container, the sound equipment was put into the sound van and all the clothing that was left over was stashed in the van that we drive. One lone man was still sitting in the chair that had been at his table before the table was removed. He was dressed all in white (he really was) . He had a long dark beard and from a distance looked like a character out of the Bible. He was just staring into space.
Finally the cops pulled their car up to him and turned on the lights and blared over their speaker..."you need to get up out of that chair." I thought that was a bit much, but I am just telling the story.
He kept sitting. They kept the lights on him. Finally he slowly stood and someone took the chair. He kept standing. He didn't move a muscle. Just stood...and stood...and stood. The lights went off, the cops pulled away, and still he stood...staring into the dark.
Waiting...waiting...waiting, for the TROLL to come and eat him.