“When my brain is clear, the pathways feel so snappy!” Barnaby Capsis cried not long after he awoke one morning, to no one in particular, as he lived alone.
Barnaby woke that day with all his synapses snapping like firecrackers. He could feel his mind snap-crackling and popping as if anything could happen, and, of course, it did.
As he was walking down the street, a woman he thought he’d never seen before called, “Barnaby Capsis!” He watched as she walked up to him as if she had a purpose, which, of course, she did.
“Barnaby, you’re just the man I’m looking for,” she said.
“Oh,” he replied, not quite snappily. “What can I do for you?”
And the answer to that question changed everything. Answers always change something, but in this case it changed everything, because of the wonderful whiz he was.
+ + + + +
That, dear friends, is where I left Barnaby these three weeks ago now. In the ensuing days I have browsed back in my journal and wondered why the woman could possibly need Barnaby, and how helping her could possibly change not anything but everything.
I think “changing everything” could mean that they are destined to live happily ever after together, but I wonder if that’s too much a cliche. I think “changing everything” could mean that she needs him to go on a hero’s journey that will change not just Barnaby but the whole world he lives in, but then it’s a big story and not just a bit of fluff.
I like the introduction to the woman as someone “he thought he’d never seen before,” because it leaves open the possibility that he HAS seen her before, and when he realizes that, then everything might change in a different way.
What knots we tie ourselves in, sometimes after five and 10 chapters of an adventure, and sometimes, as in this case, after six short paragraphs. One of these days the mysterious woman will answer Barnaby’s question for me, and finally away we’ll go.
I am delighted to report that my journal entries of late have been peppered with fictional notes and random scenes like this one, because I have such fun playing with my imaginary friends and we so seldom finish our stories. Barnaby Capsis may have to wait, because I don’t yet know what adventure he will pursue, while I have other friends whose names I have shared (Jeep Thompson, Adam Comfort and Joy Emerson, Hank Bratcher and Stella Maris) who have been waiting much longer than three weeks — years, in point of fact — to tell me what they want me to share.
And then there are all the people in the story ideas that I’ve jotted down between other musings in my 17 (!) journals to date. I always think I really must take time to go back and visit with them, but then someone like Barnaby nudges me in the ribs and says, “Yeah, but wait until you hear what the woman needed me to do.”
The possibilities are endless. Ain’t it great?