Crying Wind Homepage

from Volume 27 No. 6 May-June 2007

I'm Fine!

When someone asks, "How are you?" I always answer, "I'm fine."

If I have a cold, a fever, a sore back and every inch of my body aches, I'll still say, "I'm fine."

I say this for two reasons. The main reason is because I don't really think anyone wants to know the details about my health; they are just being polite. The other reason I never tell people how I really feel is because if I say I'm sick, they might try to cure me.

If I say I have a cold, I get all kinds of advice, home remedies and gallons of soup with strange things floating in it from pig's tongues to chicken tails.

If people ask, "How are you?" and if I answer I'm lonely, they tell me to get a cat. I like cats, but unless a cat can talk to me and ask me about my day and sit across the table from me at dinner, I don't think it will help.

When my car broke down and the repair bills were more than I expected, my friend asked if I could pay my bills that month. I said, "Yes, but I might have to live on bread and water so I can pay my rent." I was joking but the next day I discovered a sack of groceries on my doorstep. I felt badly that she'd spent money on groceries for me but I kept them because it would have hurt her feelings if I'd refused to accept her gift. I should have told her I was fine and my car was fine.

A lady named Bonnie asked me how I was doing and I said that I'd been spending too much time alone and needed to get out more. She invited me to go out for dinner with her.

As she was driving down the street, the car ahead of us accidentally ran over a squirrel and killed it. Bonnie slammed on the brakes, jumped out of the car, picked up the poor, flattened squirrel and chased the other driver down the street for two blocks screaming at him and calling him a murderer.

I was left sitting in her car, which was blocking traffic and people were honking their horns and getting very angry. I moved to the driver's seat and pulled the car over to the curb and waited for Bonnie to return.

She came back fifteen minutes later, hot, exhausted, and angry the driver of the other car had gotten away. I felt sorry for the man who had killed the squirrel, I'm sure it was an accident. He must have been terrified by the woman chasing him down the street screaming at him and waving a dead squirrel in the air.

Bonnie insisted that we dig a hole and bury the squirrel before we went to dinner. She saw two women coming down the sidewalk and insisted they attend the squirrel's funeral. The women were kind enough and polite enough to wait until Bonnie said a tearful goodbye to the squirrel and then both women hurried away as quickly as they could.

We went to a fancy restaurant, something I'm not used to doing, and I didn't recognize anything on the menu. She said she'd order for me. When my dinner came, it was a piece of cold, raw meat and some sliced carrots. I munched on the carrots because I couldn't eat the raw meat. I don't even want to tell you how much my dinner cost. Bonnie thought everything was delicious.

I haven't seen Bonnie since that evening but if I do see her again, and if she asks me how I am, I'm going to say I'm fine. My nerves can't take another evening with her. I was only with Bonnie two hours and nine minutes but being with her gave me a terrible headache...but I'm not going to tell anyone I have a headache.

I'm fine! How are you? Are you fine, too?