The puppet was so happy to do the master’s bidding. He danced and twirled and bowed at the master’s pleasure, and the puppet loved to dance anytime the master asked.
One day, the master introduced the puppet to another puppet, a girl puppet, and the dancing became even more fun and elaborate. The girl puppet pushed the boy puppet to become better and together they danced like they had never danced before.
After a long and happy time, the master asked both puppets to dance in hell to show the residents that he still cared for them. It didn’t matter to the boy puppet, he was just so happy to dance for the master, and dance with the girl puppet.
After the couple had been dancing in hell for a little while, the girl puppet started to get sick. How could this be possible? All the master had to do was take her to his workbench and fix her forever.
As time went on, the girl puppet got sicker and could not dance with the boy puppet anymore.
The boy puppet was so sad. He cried and cried and cried and begged the master to take the girl puppet to his workbench and fix her forever.
The master turned a deaf ear and expected the boy puppet to keep dancing even though his heart was so badly broken.
How could the master ask this of the boy puppet, the puppet that danced for the master every time the master asked? How could the master allow the girl puppet the boy puppet loved so much to get sick, even to the point of suffering? Where was the master’s love and care that had put them together and made both puppets so happy? Didn’t the master know how much the boy puppet loved to make the master happy? Didn’t the master remember all the time the boy puppet had made the master smile?
Finally, the boy puppet was so sad and tired from dancing alone, and so hurt from the master’s silence, he demanded that the master cut the strings so he could go to the girl puppet and try to relieve her from her agony.
Without warning or explanation, the master cut the strings and the boy puppet fell to the ground unable to move. He could see the girl puppet; he could almost touch her but without the master’s help, he could not reach her.
The boy puppet cried and cried and tried to understand what the master had done. Why was the girl puppet so sick? Why didn’t the master take her to his workbench and fix her forever? Why could the boy puppet not help her? Why did he cut the boy puppet’s strings if he knew that the boy puppet could not help her?
Why did the master no longer answer?
The girl puppet cried the boy puppet’s name. “Help me, help me,” she said.
“I cannot help you,” the boy puppet said.
The boy puppet looked around and considered all his options. “I will make a deal with the devil himself if I have to, but I will save the girl puppet,” he thought but the devil would not turn his head. The boy puppet could not get the devil’s attention.
“Dance, dance you fool! Make the master love you again!” said the girl puppet.
“Impossible,” thought the boy puppet, ” the master cut the strings, I cannot move.” But with a strength did not know he had, the boy puppet was able to stand, and then to dance. The boy puppet danced and danced with a strength he did not know he had until he collapsed back onto the ground. When he was done he turned his eyes up towards the master but there was no sign that the master saw the boy puppet dancing, or heard his cries.
And the girl puppet continued to get sicker and sicker.
To be continued…
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Oh Bob! This post is so poignant, creative, and I just can’t find words to express your ability to put into such artfully descriptive words your experience, which I totally understand through my own well-spouse journey.
I just finished your book, and was so utterly blown away by its power! I anxiously await your next post and pray that you and Carole are moving in a better direction from all the grief in your book. Your honesty and brilliant humor were a wonderful gift to me as I read Besides the Cancer.
(I will write a review for the next issue of WSA’s Mainstay.)