So, there I was at the bottom of a deep, dark, musty, and thoroughly unpleasant hole. There was a shovel in my left hand, blisters on the right, and a mound of dirt above me, towering over my hole. I had no idea how I’d gotten there.
I remember when I bought the shovel. I knew it was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. It was a bargain: my first shovel. And the people who sold it to me, so nice. Of course, I charged it, too.
I Remember When I Started to Dig.
And I remember when I started to dig. It seems like such a long time ago, now. I was just going to dig a little bit.
And here I am now. I seem to remember it being so bright out there, when I moved just a couple shovel-fulls of dirt. Now I can see that the sky is darkening. Being underground is cold, of course, and as the day ends it seems to be getting colder.
Its funny, one doesn’t usually think of a hole having walls. I don’t like walls. These walls crumble at my touch yet they are more solid and impenetrable than steel.
Rich and fertile from the passing of lives before me.
The moist, dark soil that is all around me carries a heavy scent. Rich and fertile from the passing of lives before me. I wonder, will it suck up mine, too?
I must have been possessed to dig myself in this far. I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t. I remember the shoveling now: one load of dirt after another. It felt so good. I felt so alive and productive! And I remember thinking that I shouldn’t go too far lest I not be able to get out.
And here I am.
Here I fucking am. What an idiot.
Its funny how people can blind themselves to things. They just close their eyes, plug their ears, and forge ahead - reality be damned! Sometimes, you might even consider this courageous if it didn’t have such a stupid result.
I’m going to get myself out of this hole.
If I’m going to get myself out of this hole, I’ll have to be smart and cautious. There’s no one around so yelling will only serve to tire me unnecessarily. Besides which, I’m too mad at myself to allow anyone to help me. Even if they throw a rope down to me now, I would refuse it. I got myself into this ugly hole and I will get myself out! Responsibility. For myself, that is. Its very important to learn this, I know.
There’s something wrong with a world that makes shovels cheap and available, but offers not tools to help me do the opposite. I mean, its not like you can dig yourself out of a hole.
The top of my hole seems miles away now, even though I stopped digging some time ago. After several attempts to climb out, I had made it up several feet. Just as I developed some hope, however, I lost my footing in the soft, moist dirt and landed at the bottom again.
Its been a long night. I feel like the day may never come again. I may never get out of here.
Its not so bad here I guess. The dirt is soft and cool. And no one will have to worry about burying me. I’m already here! Just push that dirt in and I would be all set.
“Hey buddy, whatcha doin’ down there?
“Hey buddy, whatcha doin’ down there? Whatsa matter, you can’t get a girl or something?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine. Just cooling out down here. I’m all set.”
“Listen, kid, do you wanna get out of there? Are you stuck? You’re pretty far down there.”
“I’m fine. Really, I’m OK.”
“You got a shovel down there? Why don’t you pass it up to me. I’ll fill in the dirt little by little. You step on it, pack it good, and pretty soon you’ll be high enough to climb out. You understand that?”
A pause.
“Kid did you hear me?”
I passed him up the shovel. Threw it up, really. He started pushing that dirt on me pretty fast. It was in my hair, my eyes, inside my shirt, up my nose. It had a kind of clean taste. It was kind of funny.
He must have a fucking BULLDOZER up there.
I tried stomping it down but he was pushing it over so fast. He must have a fucking BULLDOZER up there, I thought. “Hey! Slow down! Stop! Stop! Slow down!”
He did.
“What! Are you some kind of pussy? Whatsa matter?”
“I’m stuck you sonofabitch. You pushed it too fast and now I’m STUCK. My legs are buried!”
He grimaced at me. “You are HOPELESS, kid!”
At least now I had a little dirt chair. Comfort is important.
I wished I’d had a beer.
I relaxed and thought. Maybe I slept. I don’t know. I wished I’d had a beer.
A big fat worm had crawled up on my crossed arms, right there on my forearm. Half of him was standing up, as best a worm can stand, and he was swaying like he was trying to get a good look at me.
I swatted at him.
“Hey man! Watch it!” This was a talking worm.
“What do YOU want?”
“You look kind of down, man, I mean unhappy … What’s bugging you?”
“What do you think?”
You’ve got DREAMS and HOPES and ASPIRATIONS!
“You wanna get out of here, right? I see. You’ve got DREAMS and HOPES and ASPIRATIONS! Give it up, man! Forget it! You gotta learn how to live; life in the dirt ain’t so bad. It’s easy, you don’t have to worry too much. Nice and dark and comfy. Brother, I am set here. You could be, too, man. Don’t sweat it.”
“You’re a WORM! You’re supposed to live in the dirt.”
“So?”
“So! I’m a MAN. I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Hey!” A half-full coke can landed on my head spraying soda everywhere. The worm burrowed off.
An old lady looked down. “Oh I sorry, thought was for trash.”
“That’s ok, it is.”
“What’s that, young man?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing.”
“I bet you’re hungry. A nice ham sandwich maybe or some of my chicken soup …” She threw me down an overflowing sandwich, neatly wrapped. Too much mayonnaise but I sucked it down, whole.
She had that nice grandmotherly smile.
“You like it? I have more.” She had that nice grandmotherly smile. Grandmothers are always so sweet and cute and nice, always shoving something to eat down your throat, in a nice way, of course.
A nice piece of rhubarb pie and some coffee finished me off just nicely.
We rested for a few minutes. “I need to get out of here,” I told her, “Do you have any ideas?”
“Out? Why you want out?”
“Uh, well, its kind of cold and dark here. And I’d really like to get out and do some different things, you know …?”
You have it so good here!
“Ay! You’re so silly! You have it so good here! We build a little shack over you, keep you dry. And we feed you … You will be fine!”
“We?”
“Oh, yes. I have very nice daughter. You will like her. Very young. Very pretty. She is your type, young man.” Grandma smiled knowingly at me.
“A daughter?!” Oh my god. I am done for.
And I was.
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