the eXile - editorial

Issue #18/99, September 14 - 28, 2000

Puppets Best Companions of All

Now that September is here and schools everywhere have opened their doors again, it’s time to celebrate anew all the reasons why we never married and instead live alone with a six-foot wooden puppet.

Our girlfriends left us a long time ago. We became boring, petty and predictable and finally wore them out. They got tired of our ranting and so they left. But our puppet never left us. He was the same friend we always had and his love for us just grew and grew. He sat on the windowsill, smiling, his little wooden arm fixed in a friendly wave.

Not long ago we ran into some hard times. We called and visited all our friends, but no one was there to help. But our puppet was there. When we sat in one room, we always knew he was in the other room. When we went out for yet another late-night walk we always knew he would be home when we came back, no matter how long we wandered the streets.

Sometimes, when things got really bad, we’d sit down and write what we thought would be our last letters to the world. But then we’d look over at our puppet, a tear would come to our eye, and we would wander back to bed, and sometime later fall asleep again.

When morning came we would suddenly feel refreshed, feeling that things had changed and that the trouble had passed. Brimming with enthusiasm we would leave home with no thoughts of our puppet and go to our offices with renewed energy. We smiled and said hello to people in the halls, incurring looks of surprise. We delivered long-promised assignments to superiors who had lost faith. We tidied our desks, giving it an appearance of neatness and purpose.

In this manner we passed a good day. But then the end of the work day came, and the sun began to go down. Our co-workers dully went their separate ways, leaving us alone at our desks. Not for us would there be a night out with friends! Not for us would there be happiness, warmth, companionship! It as a crushing blow, and seemed even more terrible when we considered, in a sober moment, that there was absolutely no reason why things should be otherwise.

So we went home. It was not until we turned the key that we remembered that our puppet, his little wooden arm fixed in a friendly wave, was waiting for us just beyond the door, on the windowsill. We turned the doorknob, threw the door open, and rushed in.

There he was! Sitting there on the windowsill, his little smile still painted on his face, dressed in his little puppet suit-and-tie, and waiting. Was he waiting for us? Who could say? But we acted as though he was, lumbering over to his side and plopping down on the ragged recliner we keep near the window.

“Tough day,” we said.

The puppet said nothing, but just smiled.

“I’ll go make us some dinner,” we added. “Surely there’s something left in the fridge!”

Nothing again. But he was still there!

That night we crawled into bed, keeping a light on in the hallway where we could see the puppet’s shadow reflected on the wall. Lately we’ve been having trouble sleeping, but on this night we drifted peacefully away with no trouble at all. Only loneliness stops sleep.

We at the eXile don’t know if we have any readers anymore. But we do have our puppet. And don’t ever think that that isn’t enough.

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