A Brother's Hands

p I was sitting in anbsp;coffee shop drinking a cup of hot chocolate as people saunterednbsp;in contemplatingnbsp;their caffeinated (and decaffeinated) beverage choices.nbsp; I sipped at my notional desire not to listen to any Christmas music as the undercurrent of corporatenbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="xmas" data-scaytid="1"xmas/span classicsnbsp;seeped intonbsp;my aural canal./p p Coffee shops are incubators of bad musical selections withnbsp;music that isnbsp;often over-modulated ornbsp;oversaturated with weeping guitarnbsp;strings bemoaning everything under the cloudsnbsp;with the exception of bad beards, bad clothes, vegan food, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="chai" data-scaytid="3"chai/span tea and othernbsp;such oddmentsnbsp;deemed estimablenbsp;(emestimable,nbsp;a span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="chickenshit" data-scaytid="5"chickenshit/span word meaning:nbsp;worthy of esteem)nbsp;/emby span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="gentrifiers" data-scaytid="7"gentrifiers/span, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="trendoids" data-scaytid="9"trendoids/span and others of similarnbsp;ilk.nbsp; I sippednbsp;my chocolate while the vocalist wailed away thosenbsp;immortal verses:nbsp;emlet it snow...let it snow...let it snow./em/p p As I satnbsp;trying to ignore the hortatory anthems exalting the holiday season, i was approached by a brother who looked to be in his late 50#39;s.nbsp; You got anynbsp;change you can spare? henbsp;asked.nbsp; Mynbsp;eyes fell on his hands--tree trunk with root-like fingers--then rose to meet his eyes.nbsp; Yeah, my mannbsp;i said, reaching into my pocket.nbsp; I felt the coinage and tepid billsnbsp;(bills, notnbsp;balls)--metal and paper that werenbsp;nearly weightless yet carrying so much weight./p p I began tonbsp;trip onnbsp;my hands--soft hands, i thought--hands thatnbsp;nevernbsp;built a house,nbsp;pushed a wheelbarrow,nbsp;worked the fields, shovelednbsp;shit or cleaned a toilet.nbsp; Hell, my father could argue thatnbsp;I barely wiped my ownnbsp;ass--and henbsp;wouldn#39;t be half wrong.nbsp; My hands,nbsp;a matrix of span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="papercuts" data-scaytid="11"papercuts/span and hangnails, gnawed to excess while flipping throughnbsp;the thesaurus.nbsp; How wasnbsp;I worthy of the hot holiday cocoa in my hand?/p p I pulled out a dollar, ready tonbsp;hand it to the brother when a voice said, Hey, you can#39;t panhandle in here...you got to go outside.nbsp; From behind thenbsp;brother a man stood, a span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="caucasoid" data-scaytid="13"caucasoid/spannbsp;male (i.e.: a white man), bespectacled,nbsp;wearing a tweed jacket, unmemorable shirt.nbsp; I looked at hisnbsp;thinlynbsp;featured face./p p My eyes fell on the brother#39;s hands againnbsp;and his gnarled rooted fingers--hands that have survived something.nbsp; Come on, you got to go saidnbsp;tweed jacket, inching closer.nbsp; Who arenbsp;emyou/emnbsp;I asked (as if i didn#39;t know)/p p I#39;m security said tweed.nbsp; Who arenbsp;emyou?/em/p p I#39;m Tiger Woods i replied/p p Tweed looked at me with disdain that said: emYounbsp;smart ass no nosed punk.nbsp;nbsp;/emReading his mind, i gave him a half smirk with all the holiday spirit i couldnbsp;conjure./p p Look i said.nbsp; I#39;m giving this gentleman some change.nbsp; I don#39;tnbsp;need tonbsp;benbsp;accostednbsp;bynbsp;emspan class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Efraim" data-scaytid="15"Efraim/spannbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Zimbalist" data-scaytid="17"Zimbalist/spannbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Motherfucking" data-scaytid="23"Motherfucking/span span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Jr" data-scaytid="25"Jr/span. /emwhile doing it.nbsp; We don#39;t need thenbsp;FBI in here/p p I#39;m not with the FBI saidnbsp;Tweed--although he probably, in his intimate moments wished he was.nbsp; Henbsp;seemednbsp;to be impressed, begrudgingly, that i knew who span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Efraim" data-scaytid="19"Efraim/span span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Zimbalist" data-scaytid="21"Zimbalist/spannbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Jr" data-scaytid="27"Jr/span. was but to me it was inconsequential--I could have saidnbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Absorbine" data-scaytid="31"Absorbine/span span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Jr" data-scaytid="29"Jr/span. (that#39;snbsp;anti-fungal foot medicine for those who don#39;t know)nbsp;and it would have held the same meaning.nbsp;nbsp;/p p I am given to occasional lapses ofnbsp;concentration, slipping into an occasionalnbsp;fantasy here and there.nbsp; The interactionnbsp;with the tweed man prompts a sort of fantasy involvingnbsp;football.nbsp; Tweed suddenly is transformed into a football whilenbsp;I morph into Oaklandnbsp;Raiders placenbsp;kickernbsp;Sebastian span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Janikowski" data-scaytid="33"Janikowski/span.nbsp;nbsp;I then envision myself runningnbsp;up and placing a very hard, very vigorous kick into the football, whichnbsp;is, in reality, the tweed man#39;s narrow ass.nbsp; I basicallynbsp;pull anbsp;span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Janikowski" data-scaytid="35"Janikowski/span on his ass, kicking him upwards of 60 or more yards.nbsp; The fantasy is good while it lasts, but unfortunately, it ends when my hotnbsp;chocolatenbsp;goes cold./p p I gave the brother what i had.nbsp; Tweed jacket stood watching.nbsp; It was in thenbsp;brother#39;s hand, anbsp;hand that is part of another hand with a life written into it--a hand that cannot be sculptednbsp;in the image of those who disparage its existence./p p Thenbsp;brother walked out of thenbsp;coffee shop with the little tweed man following.nbsp;nbsp;My eyes followed them both as those verses continued:nbsp;emLet it snow...let it snow...let it snow/em/p