 
 Medicineby Kevin Bishop
 

	       The mud was soft now under our feet.  It hadn't been
	  soft all winter until now and it was soft and we didn't
	  mind.  It'd been a very warm day and long, and I had wanted
	  to take pictures but had no film.  We were certainly out now
	  though.  I had biked around the lake and it had gotten very
	  dark about half way around.  I stopped a few times to look
	  at the moon on the lake and then I rode home.  Ryan called.
	       "I have a photo shoot I have to do and I was wondering
	  if you'd come with me?  I want to take pictures of trains
	  when they come by and I don't want to have to wait for them
	  alone.  We can bring my guitar."
	       I agreed to go and he picked me up from my house and we
	  drove to the train tracks.  We parked the car and got his
	  guitar out and his tripod, camera, and flash.  The woods
	  were dark and bare but the path was made visible by the moon
	  and the sky was clear.
	       "What'd you do this weekend?" I asked as we walked down
	  the path to the tracks.  The trees were crowding overhead
	  and it was getting more difficult to see and I was happy to
	  know that we were almost there.
	       "I hung around with Tom on Friday night and we went to
	  a show with Kevin and Paul."
	       "Was it a good show?"
	       "Yes."
	       We went down a hill to the tracks and he set up the
	  tripod and waited for the trains.   The rocks that we were
	  sitting on were cold but I didn't mind very much.  It'd been
	  a good day and I was tired and it felt good to sit down.
	  I'd brought a flashlight and some paper and a book to read.
	  I'd hoped on not talking very much because I was so tired
	  and I didn't really feel much like talking.  I read out loud
	  from the book, to Ryan, a part that I thought was funny and
	  we both laughed and then it was quiet again.	Ryan lit a
	  cigarette and I shut the book and figured I ought to talk.
	       "What'd you do this weekend?" he asked.
	       "Not much.  I went and saw a movie by myself Friday
	  night and stayed home Saturday night and wrote on the
	  computer."
	       "Exciting."
	       "James popped on over late Saturday night."
	       "Is it his Spring Break?"
	       "Yep.  And we talked for a while and it felt all
	  foreign and fake but it was pretty good to see him.  I'm
	  sure he thinks I'm boring."
	       "You are boring.  You want a cigarette?"
	       I took it and lit it.
	       "I told my brother I gave up smoking for God that
	  night I got drunk."
	       Ryan laughed and picked up his guitar and played a few
	  chords.
	       "I think I'm going to drink for a living," I said.
	       "It's a good profession until you get addicted to it."
	       "So then I won't get addicted," I smiled.  "Do you know
	  any songs that I can sing?"
	       "Like what?"
	       "Like the ABC's or Jesus Loves Me?"
	       He laughed.
	       "How about the Sundays?  Play that one song, Medicine."
	       "Which one is that?  The one you like so much?"
	       "It'd do you good to learn it," I said.	"It'd do you
	  plenty good to learn it.   You'd learn my life story if you
	  learned that song."
	       "It sounds boring," he said and played Medicine.
               "'And it was such a really cold hand/ I held as the
	  wind sighed/ "I'm not going and how can I lie"/ just be
          glad/ because there's no way back there now'" I sang.
	       And he stopped when he was through and we talked some
	  more.  We talked about writing and writer's block and Naomi
	  and then we were quiet again.  Ryan played a few more chords
	  that echoed through the woods and we were getting cold.
	       "How long has it been?"
	       I checked my watch.
	       "An hour and a half."
	       "Forget it, there aren't any trains coming tonight."
	       "Thats right.  They've decided not to run tonight, I
	  forgot to tell you."
	       "Well, that's sure a lot of help you've turned out to
	  be," he said as he got his things together.
	       We started walking down the tracks trying to find the
	  path that led through the woods and back to the car.	We
	  took one path that curved around and put us back out on the
	  tracks.  We kept walking.
               "'Dig down to the earth here outside/ lose my mind
	  here any day now/ don't be sad/ we're only half way there/ o
	  no/ that's what I call home/ you remember the hills we
          slithered down/ "I'm not going anywhere"/ you lied'" I
	  sang some more.
	       We tried the next path and it came to a dead end in the
	  woods.
	       "Are we going to get out of here tonight?" Ryan asked.
               "'I need another look at before/ though heaven knows
	  how I'd ever make/ my way back there now/ and I need another
	  look at before/ although heaven knows how I'd ever make/ my
	  way back there now/ now I know it's hopeless/ and I realise
          it's nowhere/ hell here on my own'" I answered.
	       "The next one will be it."
               We took the next path and it was the right path and we
	  went home without the trains.

                                 -end-
                     Copyright (c) 1993 Kevin Bishop
