1813. It’s all in the telling

Every scar tells a story. Barry knew that. It’s why he wore his shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Everyone in the classes he taught would see the scar that ran up the underside of his arm from the wrist to the elbow.

“How did you get the scar, sir?” asked a pupil in his algebra class.

“It’s a scar from when I got by-pass surgery done on my heart,” said Barry. “They take a blood vessel out of your arm and replace a clogged up blood vessel that goes into the heart. It’s quite a common operation.”

No one believed him. It’s all in the telling. Barry knew that the real story would leak out; how he and his now ex-wife were visiting the zoo and his wife had shoved Barry towards an over-excited chimpanzee. The chimp tried to protect its baby and clawed Barry on the arm leaving blood everywhere and in the long run a permanent scar.

“How did you get the scar, sir?” asked a pupil in the following year’s algebra class.

“It’s a scar from when I got by-pass surgery done on my heart,” said Barry.

No one believed him. It’s all in the telling. Barry knew that the real story would leak out; how he had been leading the famous car race in the Isle of Man when his vehicle skidded off the road and into a tree. The accident required extensive surgery to his arm.

“How did you get the scar, sir?” asked a pupil in the following year’s algebra class.

“It’s a scar from when I got by-pass surgery done on my heart,” said Barry.

No one believed him. It’s all in the telling. Barry knew that the real story would leak out; how he had jumped between a mad gunman and a little old lady. He saved the lady, but the bullet grazed his arm and it required surgery.

“How did you get the scar, sir?” asked a pupil in the following year’s algebra class.

21 thoughts on “1813. It’s all in the telling

    1. Bruce Post author

      Herb – I feel a bit guilty – I’ve commented on every posting you’ve made for the past week and not a single one has made an appearance! There’s a glitch somewhere, but I hope you don’t feel too ignored by me!!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  1. dumbestblogger

    I was working the night shift at Wal-Mart one summer and a co-worker showed me a very impressive scar that ran from his elbow to his wrist. He coyly waited for me to ask how he had got it, and nonchalantly responded “Oh, I got drunk one night and my friend keyed me in the arm”.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply
        1. Bruce Post author

          Sorry – I missed your comment for a while – I was out shooting the endangered YellowTailed Menglopathauras to feed to my dogs. Mama’s makin’ a vinegar pie. This is my exceedingly poor attempt to sound like a redneck meth-head. Even though I lived with them in rural Asheville NC for a year I never picked up the accent and nuance!

          Liked by 2 people

          Reply
  2. umashankar

    The story reads like a ballad. The refrain disguised as a question elicits different response each time and creates an atmosphere of intrigue. Eventually, the protagonist represents all those incidents even as we keep waiting for the truth.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

I delight in having my dull life coloured by your intelligent perceptions, your wit, and your vivacity.

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