The Mad Man

I can never sleep. Soon as my head hits the pillow, my brain turns on. Ideas. Things that you can never imagine yourself thinking. For months I used to worry about my airplane. There’s a small airport near the trailer where people land small aircraft. And as soon as my head was horizontal I started to worry. Where did I park the airplane? It’s not like it wouldn’t be easy to find. There can’t be more than a couple dozen airplanes on the ground. But I couldn’t recall parking it anywhere. Keep me up for hours. And then one day I was in Durham in this small grocery store picking up a few vegetables when it suddenly dawned on me. I don’t have an airplane.
One night I’m laying there worried about the poles. Not the country. The north and south pole. What if they switched? It had happened before. Would we wake up the next morning disoriented? Would the birds start flying north in the fall? Would we have to remake all our maps? Would Santa Claus have to seek out counseling?
It’s a disorder. I’ve been tested for it and found wanting. What do they call 4 a.m.? The hour of the wolf? You go outside and there is a strange stillness in the air. It’s the hour when most people die. Just before the dawn.
Up at the trailer I would go out and wander through the fields. Try and tire myself out. A couple of times I found myself the next morning, sleeping with the cows. Nothing romantic. But, I love cows. There’s a sad wisdom in their eyes. Don’t fool yourself. They know what’s in their future. They can smell barbecues miles away. But they’re resigned to their fate. It makes my heart sink. That’s why Madeleine and I became vegetarians. That lasted about six months until one night when I fell asleep in a field of carrots.