Fugue #77

"When people got to the first coast - when the boats landed at Jamestown or Plymouth Rock - they carved out places for themselves and pushed the Native Americans back. From there, there was only West, all the land was in front of them. And they pushed farther, hearing Manifest Destiny’s monotone instruction: ‘If you take it, it’s yours, now go.’

When they got to the second coast, 200 some years and ten generations later, there was only East. All the land was behind them. Some people stopped along the way. We did, obviously. We quit halfway - not because it was too hard to keep going, but because we wanted to stay.

We don’t have an ocean in front of us or behind. We don’t have a sunrise from across the water to announce the new day, or a sunset from across the water to remind us to put today to rest. We have land, and more land. An ocean of land, and rowcrops to catch the sun like waves."

Paul smiles at his grandfather, "Yeah, it does seem like an ocean sometimes."

"And these little towns are like islands." His grandfather smiles back. He fought in the South Pacific during the War.