Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Gephyrophobia

Tatum sat on the sewing machine table listening to his mommy talk on the phone to Rudy’s Mommy.  Tatum thought of her as the rosy lady, although he wasn’t sure if he’d actually ever met her.  There was something about her and roses – maybe she grew them?  He didn’t recall clearly, since that was from the time he first came to live in Adelphia and was scared of everyone and everything.

Anyhow, Mommy and the rosy lady were talking about how the rosy lady had gotten scared when she had to go over a really, really long bridge a couple days ago.  She’d been so scared of the bridge the rosy lady had just kept repeating to his Mommy that she’d be okay.  Tatum remembered that phone call.  Mommy and he had been lying on the bed, and when the phone rang, she kept saying to the person on the other end of the phone that she’d be okay and she was doing fine.  She also told her to breathe, but Tatum wasn’t sure why.  Breathing wasn’t one of those things you forget to do, was it?  They were on the phone like that for at least ten minutes, and when Mommy hung up, she’d said to Tatum, “You know, Tatum, it wouldn’t have taken so long if she’d been going 40 miles an hour to begin with.  25 on a bridge with no passing?  She’s lucky the guy behind her didn’t honk her off the bridge.”

Tatum considered this.  He’d only had a few car rides in his life, but to his understanding only people drove cars, and they didn’t honk.  They talked, sang, and yelled or cried occasionally, but they didn’t honk.  Geese honked, but geese didn’t drive cars.  Also, a goose would have just flown across the water.  Tatum consigned this conundrum to the part of his brain where human imponderables went.  They said lots of things that didn’t make a heck of a lot of sense. 

Bridges weren’t scary things, Tatum was sure of that.  When he had been a foster kitten, he had gone on a trip with his foster owner and they had found an interesting bridge.  It certainly would not have supported a car, or at least a car wouldn’t have fit on it.  His foster owner had put him down with a reminder to stay close, as it was a very long way down.  They both had walked the high, narrow bridge and had even stopped midway to admire the scenery.  Tatum had wanted to climb the wires on the sides, but since it was such a very long way down he’d decided to keep his feet on the bridge road surface. 
Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/stupidcan/2692466021/
Tatum wandered over to look at the laptop screen when he heard his Mommy say, “Holy cow,  that is a really long bridge.”  The picture was taken from water level and it looked really long and high.  It made the bridge he’d been on look like a toy.  This was a serious bridge.  Two bridges, actually, since there were two of them side by side.  Tatum considered them, and figured that he’d be able to handle them, if his Mommy ever took him there.  His paws might be tired by the time he got to the other end, though. 
Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/radiorover/2125283133/


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