www.crimefilenews.com

Just Shut Up, Will Ya

A Young Garrison Keillor at the State Fair (part 2)

Young Garrison is temperamental in his indulgence of that which he finds auxiliary. He rises, with some difficulty, and swipes at the insolent balloon. He is not athletic, often picked second to last for sports, and he meekly strikes the balloon under the tie. The balloon dips and rises, taunting Garrison’s efforts at violence. Before long Young Garrison is wildly chasing after the balloon, swearing that he will pop it, deflate it of its pretense. “I shall expose you’re hollow insides, Balloon. You will shrivel like a raisin under the unyielding force of atmospheric pressure!”

Young Garrison has run clear around the perimeter of the fair, and is now cutting a zig zag path through the heart of the over heated crowd. The other young boys being to notice, “Is that Garrison with that balloon? Is he laughing? Come on y’all.” From all corners of the fair the boys come running, alerted to the fun by the usual channels of giggles and youthful energy that the Adults either cannot feel or ignore. Soon there is a dozen or more boys running up behind Garrison, urging him on toward the balloon. He at first fears they are going to catch him and hurt him, but as the boys catch up he realizes the stinging slaps on his back are of encouragement.

The hyperactive procession attracts the attention of the adults, who look up with mild surprise from their plates, piled high with animal and corn and dough. “Is that the Keillor boy playing with a balloon? Well I’ll be darned, it’s good to see him playing, don’tch’a think, Gertrude? Never thought I’d see it myself.”

Garrison and the Balloon are approaching the bandstand, at the front of the fair. The boys are reaching a fever pitch of disbelief and encouragement. “Go Garrision, GO. Catch that balloon, Garrison! I can’t believe you’re running, Garrison!” Just as Garrison feels the smooth plastic of the ribbon on the tip of his middle finger, his foot catches on an upturned clod of grass. In the air, Young Garrison sees only the mocking redness of the Balloon against the partly cloudy summer sky. The procession comes to a screeching halt, in an amorphous semicircle around the Young Garrison, prone and exhausted in the dirt.