its 1940 and traffic is stopped... the callous hands grip the wheel... its his way of coping with new things on the job... light switch... green... heading for the delivery job... its the early morning after a night of rain and a glimpse of sun streams across the pavement... the buildings above shimmer with wet light reflections... his body aches but he knows he is alive... alive to face another day of delivery... parking he finds his workmates all conversing... no agenda just finding another means to tease and amuse each other... they have been mates for a decade now... there are no secrets here... just amusement and an emotional fueling before a long shift... the dock is full of clamoring as trucks parked are now steaming with engines awaiting deliveries... pallet after pallet is stacked from the night shift before... he is sizing the load... checking the logbook from the shift just left... his mate has always left him a clean truck and full tank of fuel... one nod to another along this assembly line of drivers... bosses start barking and pleading with new recruits as he feels himself smiling... in remembrance of his days as a young driver... chuckles... now loads arrive... he can smell the salt air... the ample load of catch now ices and ready for quick delivery... he clocks in to the nearest station... its go time... a sense of quickness and pace fills his veins... he is alive again for this simple purpose... drive... he does a quick check... safety has been his go to in times of crisis and times of business... one for himself and vehicle and one for his mate at the end of the shift in need of a good clean vehicle... he knows the drill... he knows it like it was dreamt to him by a long forgotten youth... himself... but he is glad in the steady rhythm of the thing... the routine is a life blood for his soul... it keeps him aligned... some might not appreciate such a mundane day but he knows the task is not the only glory... its the road... the people... the faces... the places... the nuanced traffic and the new sport day to day of gauging and the pursuit... he knows it is anything but mundane giving the willingness to look for the different in the so called stagnant nature of this routine... from weather... to seasons... to various weekdays each one has its proclivities to provide the dynamics of change... each eye meets of the familiar and wave in various yards and drop offs he gets to catch up on the lives of his routes... that is the beauty he tells himself... watching life in lives of others along the routine of the day... from scores to politics to sharing a butt of a smoke... or a bad joke here and there he knows its all pure living... entertainment... the real distraction is heard on the dial he chose to land on... when finding himself proudly nostalgic he delivers his daily call to home and grabs the quick news from the place he lands... another heart there reminds him too of duties for supper and kids to take to games and activities... he finds himself warm at the thought of a supper table with laughter... he finds strength in his mates whom share the similar simple cues of life... he knows too that this striving that he sees all around only drips away that feeling of life that he knows he is priviledge to enjoy... simple peace and simple pleasure... he is a realist... he knows his station in life is pure advantage... even admist all the clanging for things greater he is content that he has what he has... he knows what he is... and pride in his station as a driver... and he is somewhat hesitant to give away its secret to providing him with the impetice to continue... that of looking at the process as one big variety show... and him being a role player... now busying to his first delivery he is already honking and waving... and his package you wonder... fresh salmon from yesterday's catch straight from the docks of 1940's Vancouver processing plant and now he the diliverer of great fortune... his name Bill Manuel... fortunate to be one of the few Indigenous drivers of his day... and today is his favourite day of the week... a pickup straight from the dock and maybe a chance to see relatives... you see Bill has a certain perspective... history.
Comments
Post a Comment