Episode On Another Patio: Or Reincarnation Again.

Recently I pitched over the patio’s low brick wall at kristopher’s house at the lake. I had a cold and made the mistake of mixing my medicines. I was all hopped up on goofballs (Mucinex D, aspirin, Sinex Nasal spray) plus I had a couple of weak martinis. (There may have been more, I remember two. Maybe they weren’t so weak.) Went outside after dinner with kristopher’s Paul to smoke a cigarette. Standing, talking. I leaned over to ash my butt into one of those glass insulators you find (or used to find) that were once used or are used on telephone poles to insulate the power lines from the wood of the pole. As I leaned, I vaguely remember feeling a dizzy wave. I realized I was leaning farther than I intended, or that I thought I had intended. I remember thinking “OK, use your hands, catch yourself on the low brick wall.” I put my hands out, but I missed. I think I missed. I slowly rolled forward. Far off, I heard Paul calling, “Oh God! Are you OK?” I was headed down. He tried to catch me. I thought he caught me. I think he got a hand on my arm. He said, “Did you pass out for a moment?” Somehow, I rolled out of his hold. It was like I was out, going down. I remember seeing the brick of the low wall coming toward me again. Again I put out my hands. The bricks passed my eyes. I saw the rocks on the ground beyond the wall. I was rolling forward, twisting a little. The wind was whistling past my ears. This happened very slowly. I tumbled over, the base of the wall below me a foot or two lower than the patio surface where I’d stood. The rocks steep off down the hill toward the lake. I bounced once, settled on my side and by virtue of gravity rolled onto my back. I remember seeing the trees, the sky above me. I remember thinking it was pretty. Right away, I tried to get up. kristopher’s big dogs, giant schnauzer, Vaughn, and collie, Dante, were all over me, barking licking like it was play time, trying to hold me down or help me up. Paul’s face was above me in the trees. I saw him say, “Are you OK? Here take my hand. Take my hand.” I grabbed. He pulled me up. I was pretty wobbly, but seemed entirely uninjured. “Are you OK? Did you hit your head? You went down head first! It was like slow motion! You talked the entire time you were going down. Are you OK?” I insisted I was fine. I did a little dance. “See?” I said “This can be our little secret, right?” He said “OK.”

But back inside sitting at the table, I noticed some blood on my knuckle, went to wash it off. Something, a trickling maybe, caused me to pull up my pantleg. I found my knee was pretty scraped up. Bleeding. Sandy came by the bath as I had my pant leg up. She got a tissue and wet it, started tamping the blood. Danny came by, “Oh, Ricky, what happened?” He started helping Sandy clean me up as he asked difficult questions I tried to answer.

The next morning at home I found I had some bruisey sore spots. I found some little annoying knicks on my hands and fingers. My collar bone seemed sore. I saw a raw little scrape on my chin in my whiskers that reddened and scabbed over during the day. A couple more sore spots on my arms. I had a fairly big bruise beneath my ribcage. How close was I to a broken rib? To a broken arm? What if I’d been by myself alone out there, fallen with broken bones?

I’m getting older. Is it time to watch out? It is time to watch out. Is it time to get scared? I don’t want to be scared. But I think it’s time to be more careful. I’ve been thinking lately it’s time to start thinking it’s time.