bedford

Cousin Bedford tried to kill himself today.

My grandfather says it best. “That Bedford is the most bone idle person alive”.

My grandmother clucks and shakes her head real pitiful like and says she reckons it’s brain damage caused by a shovel and he can’t help it. “You know what the Bible says. The Bible says we take care of those who can’t take care of themselves.”

A few years ago someone told Bedford the government would do just that. Take care of him. “They’ll give you stamps to eat on and a check to buy weed with.”

That came nearer to moving him than anything ever did. So near, in fact, he actually went and bathed and thought about signing up. Then he thought about it some more, and about how it would probably involve sitting in an office somewhere and not being stoned. And maybe even writing and talking with his eyes open. That’s when he decided the whole thing was too much work. That’s when he went out and found a woman who’d do it for him.

Her name was Suri and someone had told her “The more babies you have, the more money they’ll give you.” So she was out looking for a man to have them with when she ran into Cousin Bedford sitting on a park bench, holding a joint, and thinking about looking for someone like her.

Of course if Bedford had known then, what he knew now, he may not have ended up in front of that train this morning.

Then again, knowing Bedford, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing.