Story G
Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2005 8:39 pm
STORY G
Living next to Leonard Cohen
"Where's Leonard?"
An empty space.
A crowded room.
"Where's Leonard?"
A crowded room.
An empty space.
An expectant hush.
"Where........is................ Leonard?"
A resigned sigh.
"Marianne! Have you seen Leonard this morning?"
Eyes focus on Marianne. A Marianne beside her emptiness.......her head bowed ...studying the grain..... moving her fingers across the textured highways of her desk.
"Flying his kite, sir," she mumbled.
"Please don't mumble, Marianne. I will allow you an utter instead."
Marianne looked up and forcibly delivered her utter.
"He was flying his kite..................sir!"
Whispers and giggles merged into one and ricocheted around the room.
"Flying his kite?........... flying his kite????"
"Just the one kite, sir," Marianne uttered........loudly.
The ricochets were now out of control, erupting into a cacophony of incredulity.
The empty space remained.
"And why, may I ask, was he flying his kite?"
The cacophony ceased, expectant of a credulous reply.
"Testing the wind, sir?"
"Ah, ah! It all makes perfect sense. Master Leonard needs to test the wind before deciding to grace us with his presence. Today the wind is high and thus Master Leonard stays home. Now, why didn't I deduce that before? How silly of me."
"Sir, I was joking". Marianne withdrew. She knew when to step back from a sarcastic onslaught of that magnitude.
"Marianne? Is it fun sitting next to Leonard? Is it fun living next to Leonard? Does it provide a landscape for your imagination? Does it enhance your existence? Does it improve your grades?"
Marianne returned her focus to the maze of wood grain highways and muttered.
"He is quite cute, sir."
The ricochets recommenced.
"Quite cute?? Each day I offer you the beauty and the diversity of the English language and all you give back in return is 'quite cute'...... I despair."
"He makes me laugh, sir..........and sometimes he makes me cry........and then he makes me laugh again."
"He's a bad influence on you, Marianne. I think you need to move house."
Marianne's next response chose not to surface. Where was Leonard in her minute of need? He would have lent her the words for her self defence.
The room quietened.
"And when can we expect his presence? When the wind dies?"
Marianne's considered response did not break the surface.
".......and I suppose you did the homework assignment together?.....again."
"I did mine," Marianne offered.
".....and Leonard?"
"He was flying his kite, sir.....all evening. I watched him from my study room."
"And did he see you doing your assignment?"
"He waved to me a few times."
A resigned sigh.
The room warmed to the sound of stifled laughter.
"I am ready to start the lesson. And where best to begin?.......... the homework assignment!...... Marianne!! You will read out the poem that you so diligently wrote whilst sitting at your desk, by your window....no doubt looking for inspiration."
Silence descended...suddenly.
Marianne rose amongst her audience.......pristine paper clutched firmly in her hands.
She cleared her throat.........and began to recite her poetic masterpiece:
"A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool:
because it lives
like a trained falcon
in the...."
"STOP!!!! ......STOP!!!...STOP!!!.... 'a kite is a victim'??.........since when??.......'strong enough to call you fool'??........I'm the one strong enough to call you fool for tainting our receptive environment."
"But sir. I've only just started. There's more....much more," pleaded Marianne.
"Not here there isn't.....this is a place of learning. We are not here to jumble up words. We need order...not chaos. I advise you to stick to the rules of poetry. Prose....not presumptious pose. Am I right or am I right?"
The descended silence remained static.
"I said.....AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT?...........CLASS!"
"Yes sir, you are right", came a unified chorus, "as always."
"Good. That's settled then. Now, who is next to delight us with their poetic charm?"
"How's about Leonard?", came a voice from the back of the room.
"Krantz!!! I thought you were sleeping. It's a little early in the day for you to test your vocal capacity.........now, what did you say?".
"How's about Leonard reading his poem, sir."
Krantz was grinning, inanely.
"I think there is an important factor missing here......namely, Leonard."
"I don't think so, sir. He's peering round the door."
The still air of the room moved aside as many heads turned as one.
"LEONARD COHEN!!! GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!!!"
Leonard shuffled in. Not a majestic shuffle by any stretch of the imagination. Just a soft shuffle...head down...investigating the cracks between the floorboards.
"It is so good to see you at last, Master Leonard. Has the wind died?"
Leonard slowly filled his empty space. He turned to Marianne and smiled. Marianne happily reciprocated with a slight wave of her palm.
"Your homework, Leonard. We await with bated breath."
"I'll let someone else go first, sir, if you don't mind", announced Leonard.
"They already have, but the words were tangled. We now wait eagerly for your masterpiece to soar across this room. To pierce our inquisitiveness. To give us light where there is gloom. The stage is all yours.............Master Leonard."
Leonard slowly rose from his 'barely warm' seat. He pulled out a scrap piece of paper from his pocket and he read with confidence, calm and courage;
"MARIANNE. PLEASE FIND ME. I AM ALMOST 10."
Silence.
Stupor.
Shock.
"Please continue, Leonard. I can't wait to see where this leads."
"That's it, sir. That is my homework."
Marianne smiled.
Leonard smiled.
"Is the lesson done, sir?"
Living next to Leonard Cohen
"Where's Leonard?"
An empty space.
A crowded room.
"Where's Leonard?"
A crowded room.
An empty space.
An expectant hush.
"Where........is................ Leonard?"
A resigned sigh.
"Marianne! Have you seen Leonard this morning?"
Eyes focus on Marianne. A Marianne beside her emptiness.......her head bowed ...studying the grain..... moving her fingers across the textured highways of her desk.
"Flying his kite, sir," she mumbled.
"Please don't mumble, Marianne. I will allow you an utter instead."
Marianne looked up and forcibly delivered her utter.
"He was flying his kite..................sir!"
Whispers and giggles merged into one and ricocheted around the room.
"Flying his kite?........... flying his kite????"
"Just the one kite, sir," Marianne uttered........loudly.
The ricochets were now out of control, erupting into a cacophony of incredulity.
The empty space remained.
"And why, may I ask, was he flying his kite?"
The cacophony ceased, expectant of a credulous reply.
"Testing the wind, sir?"
"Ah, ah! It all makes perfect sense. Master Leonard needs to test the wind before deciding to grace us with his presence. Today the wind is high and thus Master Leonard stays home. Now, why didn't I deduce that before? How silly of me."
"Sir, I was joking". Marianne withdrew. She knew when to step back from a sarcastic onslaught of that magnitude.
"Marianne? Is it fun sitting next to Leonard? Is it fun living next to Leonard? Does it provide a landscape for your imagination? Does it enhance your existence? Does it improve your grades?"
Marianne returned her focus to the maze of wood grain highways and muttered.
"He is quite cute, sir."
The ricochets recommenced.
"Quite cute?? Each day I offer you the beauty and the diversity of the English language and all you give back in return is 'quite cute'...... I despair."
"He makes me laugh, sir..........and sometimes he makes me cry........and then he makes me laugh again."
"He's a bad influence on you, Marianne. I think you need to move house."
Marianne's next response chose not to surface. Where was Leonard in her minute of need? He would have lent her the words for her self defence.
The room quietened.
"And when can we expect his presence? When the wind dies?"
Marianne's considered response did not break the surface.
".......and I suppose you did the homework assignment together?.....again."
"I did mine," Marianne offered.
".....and Leonard?"
"He was flying his kite, sir.....all evening. I watched him from my study room."
"And did he see you doing your assignment?"
"He waved to me a few times."
A resigned sigh.
The room warmed to the sound of stifled laughter.
"I am ready to start the lesson. And where best to begin?.......... the homework assignment!...... Marianne!! You will read out the poem that you so diligently wrote whilst sitting at your desk, by your window....no doubt looking for inspiration."
Silence descended...suddenly.
Marianne rose amongst her audience.......pristine paper clutched firmly in her hands.
She cleared her throat.........and began to recite her poetic masterpiece:
"A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool:
because it lives
like a trained falcon
in the...."
"STOP!!!! ......STOP!!!...STOP!!!.... 'a kite is a victim'??.........since when??.......'strong enough to call you fool'??........I'm the one strong enough to call you fool for tainting our receptive environment."
"But sir. I've only just started. There's more....much more," pleaded Marianne.
"Not here there isn't.....this is a place of learning. We are not here to jumble up words. We need order...not chaos. I advise you to stick to the rules of poetry. Prose....not presumptious pose. Am I right or am I right?"
The descended silence remained static.
"I said.....AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT?...........CLASS!"
"Yes sir, you are right", came a unified chorus, "as always."
"Good. That's settled then. Now, who is next to delight us with their poetic charm?"
"How's about Leonard?", came a voice from the back of the room.
"Krantz!!! I thought you were sleeping. It's a little early in the day for you to test your vocal capacity.........now, what did you say?".
"How's about Leonard reading his poem, sir."
Krantz was grinning, inanely.
"I think there is an important factor missing here......namely, Leonard."
"I don't think so, sir. He's peering round the door."
The still air of the room moved aside as many heads turned as one.
"LEONARD COHEN!!! GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!!!"
Leonard shuffled in. Not a majestic shuffle by any stretch of the imagination. Just a soft shuffle...head down...investigating the cracks between the floorboards.
"It is so good to see you at last, Master Leonard. Has the wind died?"
Leonard slowly filled his empty space. He turned to Marianne and smiled. Marianne happily reciprocated with a slight wave of her palm.
"Your homework, Leonard. We await with bated breath."
"I'll let someone else go first, sir, if you don't mind", announced Leonard.
"They already have, but the words were tangled. We now wait eagerly for your masterpiece to soar across this room. To pierce our inquisitiveness. To give us light where there is gloom. The stage is all yours.............Master Leonard."
Leonard slowly rose from his 'barely warm' seat. He pulled out a scrap piece of paper from his pocket and he read with confidence, calm and courage;
"MARIANNE. PLEASE FIND ME. I AM ALMOST 10."
Silence.
Stupor.
Shock.
"Please continue, Leonard. I can't wait to see where this leads."
"That's it, sir. That is my homework."
Marianne smiled.
Leonard smiled.
"Is the lesson done, sir?"
this is one of my favourites. I love the way L C's poetry has been brought out with the kite poem, and Master Song reference. Lovely 
? How many persons do you eat for? Only Ali and I need to know how many tins of pineapple cubes - and those little stick things - to order.